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    (To V.K. with love)

    A well-packed hiking bag and a pair of skirt pants. - That's what I thought of you when I searched through memories and rediscovered you in unbreakable infinity: the eternal minute-stop when you waited alone on the long-distance bus platform to the Archbishop's Square, in the cathlan of heat-clusters, hoping someone would pick you up 

    and forgive you the weight of your burden! In the submissive and fragile lines of your swan shoulders I discovered not only you again, but also the shards of your disarming allness in your eye-sights! - And then thy valiant name, and then, on thy flushed rosy cheeks, to kiss thy rosebuds. 

    Thy unwearied gaze, forgiving all, glid'd on my face's weary trenches! I pitied thee much, and pity'd the shower of thy truthful tears; - in our ancient ordeal, when fancy youth had mock'd thy spine-keeping, - how often I have wonder'd how I might comfort thee with a majesty of bearing, 

    to fall humbly on thy knees, and kiss the pearl of thy tears forgiven, and rooted in thy honest innocence. - I have seen thy broken heart with doomed gaze, and I have seen well for myself the Cassandra-mirror of thy all-seeing, warrior's eye! 

    Fairies, and angels, with humble innocence thus behold What they loved, in the sway Of your cooing faery-eye I would have lost happily independent and free!

    Thy well-packed touring-bag, and alluring skirts- Suddenly thy sharp, shining form in an unexpected hour thanked me, The eternal mornings when I could not with thee bear the burden of thy battles, In thy glance my self-doubt and little-believing will would have been relieved!

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