People always seem to want to sit
On one another’s laps, in the small
Dingy cabinets where cheap automatic
Cameras produce cheap unoriginal
The soon forgotten to-be smiles,
The zany expressions will all
One day fuel our memories and regret.
And each and every photograph
Will end up burnt, torn to bits,
Or lonely, among many other pictures
In an Album with no name.
As lovers and best friends move apart
In a mutual abandoning embrace,
We remember all those sadly-happy
Years only through a face.