Second Chance

You did not choose me.
On the riverbank, the young ascetic gathered,
and you walked away with him.
I remain—
alone,
inside this vast solitude of city and survival,
bread and cloth and burden.
At times, I wish—
perhaps we might meet again,
perhaps your shameless eyes
will signal love once more.
Behind your gaze, society guards its suspicion.
You, the nun of your own vows,
will surely understand.
Your heart—
a startled Vidura’s eyes reached it once.
But those eyes turned me selfish, proud.
Still I dared to look into yours,
to hold them with mine,
and in that glance—sin was born.
You read the language of my eyes
and drifted away.
Through subtle gestures, elusive and cruel,
I tried to convince myself—
and in this way I have been deceived
for what feels like eternity.
You left, hand in hand,
with the frank ascetic youth.
I remained by the shore,
my fading mind thick with conspiracy,
my eyes fierce with pain,
my soul captive to waiting.
I will see you again,
in this grotesque city,
when you return, defeated.
And then I will wash away
all your sins, all your shames,
all that has decayed.
Once more—
a second chance.
And I will call myself fortunate
to hold you at last.