to the girl in the bar.

I wish I had bought you pancakes–

pulled you off the pole in the middle of the dance floor

[and then off that guy nearby],

taken you to the nearest late-night breakfast joint

and given you a love offering covered in syrup.

When you stumbled across the street, I should have

grabbed your wrist, called you Daughter.

Maybe I would have pulled you in to dance

with us–women who dance like the loved.

[But if I gave you a short stack, over coffee

I would tell you that I could be just like you,

with a few more drinks and a few less friends.]

When they turned on the lights to shut us down

to reveal the sticky floor and your mascara streaming,

I wish I had found you, so you could feel found.

I wish I had bought you pancakes, because

that could be your Grace.

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6 thoughts on “to the girl in the bar.

  1. Pingback: the fifty-ninth formica friday | see preston blog

  2. A beautiful piece. It reminds me of one of my first favorite songs by Dar Williams – As Cool as I Am. Except softer and more compassionate. Her line “I would teach her how I learned to dance when the music’s ended” fits in here somehow.

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