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.