On the last day of May
There we lay
You pressed your forehead against mine
Your hand on the back of my neck
Holding me closer than ever before
You were leaving its true
The question was who me or him?
I could tell in the lilt
Of a dispassionate chord in your voice
That the answer lay as it always does
On the last day of May in the eyes impossible to see
As you pressed your head against mine.
If only youd tilt your mane upward and smile that blast of heavenly rays
And say with conviction we will return soon
To how we once were before the May of our doom.
I know it was cast the die of our fates
If only April or March again
But May always come marching inevitably along.
Its impossible to delay
The last day of us in the last month of me.

-Fin
Slo 6-'16