issue 30 > poetry > cruz

I met you one afternoon outside Harrods
a surprising being ambiguous
diluted
in the rain of a precocious October twilight

You came from Persia, Teheran perhaps, and belonged
to a tiny group of supporters
of the Shah a strange and hopeless
cause harmonious however with the darkness

of that afternoon in Knightsbridge that English
autumn and also of that obscure
monarchist newspaper in
whose militancy you believed

You began to pay me unexpected visits
and there was some mystery
in those appearances and in the unforeseeable
time that passed between them

Today it is all vague
I only know it happened because
something is missing
that might have filled the space of those afternoons