HarthPoetry

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Creamed Pants

Cream stains all over my pants

I remember that summer evening

It was a hot and humid

New York City night

One of those nights I hated completely

One of those nights you loved so compellingly

We sat in the park for hours

Watched the dogs play at dusk

Until, I was quite unaware, the sun set it's last time

Twilight turned a deepening dark

City lights prevented the depth's of midnight to show

But we sat in the heat

And allowed the Hudson's breeze to awaken us

You had a cone and my arm around your shoulder

The stains of my orange creamsicle still exist

These little spots remind me of you

And the twinkle in your eyes

When I first said those three little words

I love you

We had no idea

That come morning's sunrise

I'd be plagued forever

For you

Took your own life

After I said

Good night

Last night

© 2013 David Greg Harth

13.08.07.04:27:00@130BklynNYC