Did she come out to smoke to make eyes with you?

Did she look at you from across dark bar rooms or open cafe courts for want and affection or because you had been looking her way yourself only for forgotten endless hours and with piercing persistence?

Did she touch you with roses and stare into your eyes the same as every other boy in the room?

When she sat 3 seats over you thought to offer an open palm and half out stretched arm, that she might do the same, then you’d be holding hands while the guitar screamed so loud.

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