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Miss May


Miss May
 
Clouds covering the moon,
gave shelter
which no one admitted
bore the brunt of sinister intent.

Hands,
make tourniquets
when accusations arise.

Teeth leave marks,
owners deny.

The moon shoos blushing veils,
there lay one, not two.

If only mother moon had thought to
unmask the killer of young Miss May
her appalled soul wouldn't haunt our town each
time night falls. 

Joy4no1



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