Spiritual rigour
and meditation.
In Alcalá
a series
of restive visits
punctuated by introductions, laughter, and farewells.
Then an exact repetition
in a neighbouring bar.
No one stayed long.
The hellos and goodbyes
each time had the same transient forgetfulness.
No one sat.
We only stood.
The door was never too far away.
The liquor tasted of tropical
fruit, the fritters
were oddly familiar.
These were no resting places.
The point was to move on.
In Calcutta, too, sweet shops
are meant for dispersals.
And yet, in those snatched moments
of bonhomie and trade,
is there a plausible confluence
with silence and withdrawal?