The Park on Halloween

Slovby alva25 Nov 2014

I dreamt about you crying
You were holding my hand tightly
Like I was some sort of object
To cling to when you were failing
And your eyes were so clear
And blue, though I haven't seen you in
Maybe a year?
Or something like that
-
And then a couple of nights later
We meet in a park
With no distinguishable features
Except a bench
Made of metal
And you were smiling
With teeth that were painted gold
And we sat and talked about how at Halloween
All the pumpkins get remembered
In a brutish delight
Forgetting how we hate the taste and the texture
But they look so nice
All carved up by candle light