rough sketch of a street scene you see (to the waitress in the park)

she was walking down the street in her prom dress
 she had decided this was the fourth of july and she was going to spend all her money
spread her butter on the bread, live each and every day as if it were her last
"fuck what they think" she whispered to herself as if sharing a secret with Holly Golightly
"mS. Golightly! ms Golightly!!"
evrytime i see her face i think of you, im not sure why exactly
perhaps its the way or something like that... who knows the secrets of the moon
who dares to ask why some of us are chosen to join the joyride and others are left behind..
 poor poor sane creatures, never given a chance to howl at the moon!!