I sit on the bench by the creek we once enjoyed.
As the flies, ants & mosquitos eat at my dying flesh.
They drink my tainted alcohol ridden blood.
I look over at the cabins we once shared.
I envision your Great Dane Darla enjoying herself as she frolics about.
You shot your handgun for the first time and
Would shoot the ground as the target was maybe 6ft from you.
I groaned in disdain.
Like a storm trooper trying to shoot the enemy.
A reference you wouldn’t understand.
You couldn’t hit it if you walked up point blank.
I dreamt of you here last night.
Your coworkers took me on a plane to see you
Far off in some land, maybe Europe.
You were beautifully decorated in makeup,
Hardly recognizable.
We both cried at the pain of loss.
There was no rekindling anything,
Just sitting in the defeat of something that would never be.
I wonder why I still think of you.