That moment you desire--the moment of desire--
must be postponed. Go home.
The cafes and bars are quiet.
Tonight you sleep alone.

Another day, your longing will wake
someone who's ready for you.
A dream will bite her yielding lips
with salt from your tensed brow.

Soon, you'll share that moment,
desire, in the fugitive dark
and pleasure in a climax
whose pitch is razor-sharp.

It is not your destiny tonight
to know that glorious momentum.
The haunted look on your face
shows you found no one.

Silence issues through the streets
as if from a megaphone.
Desire is foreign currency.
You found no one.