"And yet the love you were looking for, I had to give you;
the love I was looking for—so your tired,
knowing eyes implied—you had to give me.
Our bodies sensed and sought each other;
our blood and skin understood.
But, flustered, we both hid ourselves."
— C. P. Cavafy, from “On the Stairs” in Collected Poems, trans. Edmund Keeley