You’ve known this man for a few years, you ain’t never got his name yet and ain’t really never cared to ask, but you two only started to date for a nice three or two weeks, and he was a gentleman of course.

But each time you separated, you haunted his brain, he couldn’t help but hear your voice and smell your buttermilk perfume through his nostrils.

Sat upon a chair on the saloon porch, smoking a cigar, as he waited for you to scroll by town, as he thought he could spend some time with you, or carve a little moment.