The Next Table
He must be barely twenty-two years old
yet I'm certain just about that long ago
I enjoyed the very same body.
It isn't erotic fever at all.
And I came into the casino only a few minutes ago,
so I haven't had time to drink very much.
I enjoyed that very same body.
And if I don't remember where, this one lapse of memory doesn't mean a thing.
There, now that he's sitting down at the next table,
I recognize every motion he makes -and under his clothes
I see again the limbs that I loved, naked.
poem by Constantine P. Cavafy
Added by Poetry Lover
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