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| | The time will come |
| When, with elation, |
| You will greet yourself arriving |
| At your own door, in your own mirror, |
| And each will smile at the other's welcome, |
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| And say, sit here, Eat. |
| You will love again the stranger who was your self. |
| Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart |
| To itself, to the stranger who has loved you |
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| All your life, whom you ignored |
| For another, who knows you by heart. |
| Take down the love letters from the bookshelf, |
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| The photographs, the desperate notes, |
| Peel your image from the mirror. |
| Sit. Feast on your life. |
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