Dieter with the Tulips, Munich, 1984 (Nan Goldin)

Of all the portraits, this. Spare

morning, Garden of Eden. Apples,

tulips, butter-knife and the body

terrified of separation,

from God-no, of separation.

I refuse to write another love poem.

Dieter appears later on a train,

to Sweden; Dieter is maybe somewhere,

still, flush with fruit, early light.

I can't stop thinking about the same things:

I am on a train, always, and you are there,

always, a metaphor. What else?