your slightest movement signified everything you wouldn't say
and the daunting days piled up as you hoarded them all away
we toppled over and crumbled in a drizzly march with a grizzly, gloomy may
june is a troubadour, a roomy humidor for a wealthy fatcat's ratty toupee
wilful ways flutter and stutter in a bluish daze, a risqué soirée
a field day for the crazed, healthy fiancés of disarray and decay