13. WHAT HASN'T HAPPENED YET

From the Archives (March 2005)

SONG FOR SANNA
by Olga Broumas

...in this way the future enters
into us, in order to transform itself
in us before it happens.
—Rilke

What hasn’t happened
intrudes, so much
hasn’t yet happened. In the steamy
kitchens we meet in, kettles
are always boiling, water for tea, the steep
infusions we occupy
hands and mouth with, steam
filming our breath, a convenient

subterfuge, a disguise
for the now
sharp intake, the measured
outlet of air, the sigh, the gutting
loneliness

of the present where
what hasn’t happened will
not be ignored, intrudes, separates
from the conversation like milk
from cream, desire

rising between the cups, brimming
over our saucers, clouding the minty
air, its own
aroma a pungent
stress, once again, you will get
up, put on your coat, go

home to the safer passions, moisture
clinging still to your spoon, as the afternoon
wears on, and I miss, I
miss you.