July.

Petals glide down from the sky, Like dreams asking me why, Of the things I've wished, Was there one wish without July. I had answered that without July Perhaps I wouldn't have to die. As the seasons continued to partake, In their natural business, I pondered on my answer, And decided to investigate. After some time I concluded, That I had answered that way, As it was true that without July, I wouldn't have to suffer without you.