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  • Writer's pictureSonal

Wanna Be Yours

i) The names may be different,

but the places I visit

are eventually a lot alike.

The moves are same,

the grooves are same,

it's just the faces that differ.

I see that girl on the other side of the bar.

I walk up to her, buy her a drink.

She seems the type that passes out

after three easy rounds of Vodka.

I talk to her, there's something about her

that reminds me of you.

18 seconds later, I figure out

it's the same Vince Camuto perfume

that you loved to wear.

I pull her close, she breathes onto my neck.

She looks into my eyes

with a pair of her own that reeks of lust.

But then, it's not you,

it can never be you.

So I walk away, as she shouts

"Loser" in the background.

ii) As I walk down the street

to yet another bar, I see this couple

inside old man Bruce's café.

I think I have had more

coffee there with you, than I have had

whiskeys alone everywhere I could.

A vanilla latte, and a chocolate chip muffin

was your eternal order - so much,

that all you had to do was just show up in the café,

and Bruce would have the order

placed right on the table.

Would you like to play footsie

with me all over again, while I gaze

into the depths of your eyes?

Or is it still too much to ask for now?

iii) I sit down on the sidewalk,

drinking from a half-filled bottle of beer

I found near the lamp-post.

I look at all these people,

happily in love, happily together.

Do you remember making out

in the theater opposite to the park?

Your lips spread into a smile as we kissed;

you said you love me,

I could feel your heart beat racing,

like it was the only sound

that mattered to me.

Is love really that insignificant of a word

to be tossed around like a coin?

iv) I am standing right outside your window,

I hope it doesn't creep you out.

I don't think you have noticed me.

Or maybe you have, and you just don't care.

I have been waiting outside

every night for the past 4 years,

I think it's quite impossible to

not notice a person in this case.

I look at you through your window,

your smile still angelic,

but it hurts that the smile doesn't belong to me,

and neither do you.

You've already called the shots, babe;

I just wanna be yours.

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