on that night
your eyes were drunk
as heavily as you were.
we sat down
star gazing,
and your sweaty, yet cold hand
pointing the sky
counting
one, two, three...
and i could tell
your drunken eyes held more of them
those tiny little stars,
and as soon as that cold wind of August
touched your skin,
you collapsed on me
shivering, wanting to be sheltered
and happily i let you in
in my tiny little cabin.

but what a misery
as the night dawned
you were now sober and
and the stars were gone
the little shelter,
you left it, wrecked
abandoned.


                      _  vargov_