Public affection has assigned us, we are admitted
To barren corners and late dives, a hastened immediacy,
Needing no more invitation than a doorway’s personal demand,
Suddenly imposed, any indication of meaning.
An association is built on contact,
A method of safety, a point of reference,
If only to be certain that, in this small nowhere,
We are not quite alone, and an address opens with borrowed keys,
Careless to the inflection of the various and the ordinary,
A retreat amid the minute’s rapid shell, its spent
Singular character; between our thought and action,
An impulse vanishes, testing the door’s escaping light.