because it will not be

[serge gurkski]

for June in Louisville, Kentucky

Does the dog still bark, when after midnight
Heat forces you to fling the window open?
I miss your laid-back voice in the humid dark.
How does the third layer of blue dry on the
Oil painting you once started painting for me?

I don’t have bad memories. I’m sad about the
Future, naïve daydream, that we’ll never share.
We’re both jaded enough for splitting up swiftly,
Have seen many sunsets of love sink down fast
Into picturesque silhouettes of garbage cans.

And still I feel I should have yelled at you just once
To procrastinate my lingering heart attack. But
You’d been too distracted anyway.

So, come out my heart, let’s walk along
The lonesome woods and breathe some sexless air!
Let us sink down on a rotten stump and watch another
Bloody sunset, because this time it isn’t meant for us.