Lesser a solution is
bursting into a pool of tears
when love goes to exile,
making a brief visit at last night’s dinner
signs of pleasure here and there.
But the dinner leftovers, the Persian shawl
bring back sadness,
as a beetle from the cupboard
mumbles to her the vagaries of life
without love, personified in the acts of her man,
who shrugs the mirror, scratches his unkempt beard
before rushing down the stairs for a cigarette.
* A poem by Adrienne Rich
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