each episode plays
out across the street
as loud young
braves
in short-sleeved shirts
enact rites of passage
for
prospective lovers
(un)suitably in uniform
in yet another
evening
in another velvet autumn
in another distant town
alone in my unlit
room
squeezing the last from a cheap red
not stopping to
wonder
what became of us
our symphony played out
the
stage finale dismantled
but the truth
my
loveliness
is quite simply that you
should never
have
fu*king told
her
CC BY-ND 4.0 - Russell Cavanagh