he takes a bite <br />puts the cold green apple <br /> on the glass table <br />and leaves, shuts the door hard <br /> <br />sunlight streams through the open window <br />painting rainbow flashes on the pearl meat <br />brilliant and perfect in the morning <br /> <br />the apple died <br />its soggy, wrinkled corpse crying sugar on the glass <br /> <br />what I didn't tell you: <br />about the side opposite the bite: <br />there was a cut made in the apple <br />shaped like a heart <br />but rotten anyway<br /><br />Bob and Alex Eichen<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/apple-4/
