why we must meet today

last night i slept on my feet
with a picture of florence with the lamp over my head
today i think i have eyes in my rib cage
i feel blindfolded by this vest
come meet me and tell me how i look,the mirrors too high for my chest

come with me
to the well on the hilltop
alone this day will go to waste
looking for polished stones
and somewhere discarded a jar of clay

manana.the spanish fruit
ripens on the guards chair by the carousel
it can be plucked by only those
that smoke 15 a day and stub the ends
in the same tray by the armchair

we'll have to put a photograph on the mantelpiece
before and after food your face
and next to yours mine
with a fixed gaze.you will with patience and some effort
remember me the time and place