These days I don’t do much,
except
accepting what little I get
from the love of my stranger.
Stranger, that is what I call you
my friend
who just last month kept my fire warm
and read me beat poems.
I miss those days
when I had no one else
but Ginsberg and Plath
who judged never in the way you do, my friend.
I am in need of some work
that would sustain my wonder
which is now much depleted
so that I may have the strength to forget.
But not forgive, as is my wont
for I hold to this belief, steadfast
that what is wrong is wrong
that deserves nothing less than your regret.
These nights I don’t sleep much
for I want to live every second
with the contentment of a newborn,
amusing myself, thinking that I can be the better stranger.
Raisa’s poems have been published in the Indian Periodical, Oxford University Poetry Society Magazine, UNICEF Voices of Youth, and Ekstasis Magazine.