maria negroni/ tr. anne twitty 

..a dream that encircles imprisons us both, soft idleness, mirrors from Glasgow. Irascible shuttlewinders, at last we weave together, voluptuous. Hook and curves. Pure sadnesses, de queli tempi. On the crest of the circle, parallel to the body, to time's panting breath, words do not –simply–whistle any more. I swear love is like this: with a little luck, the circle contracts until it coincides with the center: I could dwell in your eyes (and even risk reality) for ages...

(note)
Rosy or fahrenheits or pennies or peroxide gazelles in subways. Transitory splendor. Beds of newspaper, inhabitants carefully keep America clean. Is everything that suffers beautiful? Hours fly quickly in Manhattan (the cold helps). Joni Mitchell is singing. Where’s Virgil?

you didn’t know        couldn’t accept beside the essential
the presence of the accessory
for example the world
me
as if that would dissolve you
would open the way to a desire unable to lead
to embracing
(to the curve of an embrace)

           (cool, imitating Paul Anka)
           –“you are my destiny”

Maria Negroni, LA JAULA BAJO EL TRAPO/CAGE UNDER COVER