July for May
Stalker, I am your prey, we are both lost but you pretend to know the way I know you stare when I look the other way lets pretend that we are both going away our thoughts stray to a certain May Out here, the season shimmies to saturday soirees no summers nor fall just the fall of dusk's curtains while the crickets call a plentitude of sepia stories and the calm vigil of the moth~