Innocence Lost
to Soledad Illanes
This afternoon the city envelops us,
life seduces us,
its ebullience deceives.
We stroll arm-in-arm along these avenues
the two of us repeating that we are women
with fire inside.
We’re unafraid of loneliness or wine,
we know caresses and kisses
births and separations.
We land in the center of Dupont Circle
among pigeon shit,
modern bookstores, and lunatics,
rapid subway trains, umbrella vendors,
other pairs like us, cars with diplomatic plates,
Mediterranean restaurants.
One glance at the lascivious sun.
Spontaneous smiles at the knowledge
of life, innocence lost
gone with the tears of two grown women
princesses who play at defiance
in the twenty-first century
unafraid of loneliness or wine.
Translated by Fiona Griffin.
