i like this poem

an Italian sonnet from A Crown of Sonnets:

We used to hunt each other. Now we meet
by accident, if we meet at all,
over blueberries in the produce stall,
or at our local butcher's, buying meat.
I'd like you to appear now, on this street,
in the old neighborhood. I would call
your name, suggest we breakfast without gall
at the Berkely Luncheonette. But would
you eat?

Lying gestures cleared like dirty dishes,
silence cracked like eggs, we would sit down
reopening our friendship like a meal-
a rapprochement so stunning pigs and fishes
would know it in their bones.
You are not in town;
we both have wounds that talking would
not heal.