'Hold me! '
you smile in that cliched way.
'You...
you are the apple of my eye! '
You lie.
An apple lies uneaten on the table.
Your teeth marks cut
a pretty pattern in it.
(White gleams against the green) .
'I would love you
- if I were abel.'
'Do you not
- love me! '
'I do, but
- I am unable.'
The uneaten apple stains with time.
(Tears enclose the image of your going) .
I fear the sunlight sneaking through the slats
...the train's leaving rattling the cups.
Dónall Dempsey
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/your-photo-remains-unchanged/
