I see you walking alone through the pumpkin patch.
Fog rolls near the ground.
I know your routine.
I’ve been watching you the past few weeks.
I know everything about you.
At night I fantasize about what I would do to you.
How I would fuck you.
How your body would feel underneath me as I pounded my corn cob deep inside you.
My long fingers brush against your arm as you walk past me.
You shiver, as do I. I wish you could see me for more than what is before you.
A lonely scarecrow, forever wanting you.
