theater2k.com -- short stuff: gone

Gone

She said into my shoulder,
"Ring me when you get to London,"
but we both knew that wouldn't happen.

Four floors to the waiting taxi below,
flip-flops echoing down the stairs,
bag in the trunk, sunglasses down.
She didn't look up, and was gone.

She'd left behind a half-eaten apple,
which over the next few days
slowly filled the room
with its heavy, rotting sweetness.

-- New York, NY
5/9/06