Only twice in a lifetime
might a stranger be plucked from the crowd
and addressed as though by a long-lost friend,
admonished for their absence.
Afterwards, alone again,
the reason for the misidentification stands out plainly
and the incident is now (officially)
an amusing story.
Had there been less slavishness in earlier loves,
had freedom not glinted so fiercely in the cruel lights.
There was a world to tell but nothing to say.
And of the ten women who passed by in any given hour,
in which one was hidden such earthly delight
that she could pass by unrecognized?