the little azure fires of the eyes

But first one must free oneself
of the precise greed that produces us,
that produces me sitting
in the corner of a bar
waiting with clerical passion
for the exact moment when
the little azure fires of the eyes
opposite, of the eyes acclimatized
to risk, the trajectory precalculated,
will demand a blush
from my face. And will obtain a blush.
[Patrizia Cavalli, 'But first one must free oneself', translated from the Italian by Patrizia Cavalli & Robert McCracken, in The Vintage Book of Contemporary World Poetry, J.D. McClatchy, ed.]