Musings by The Poet Loriet

Miracle On Second Street

The fat guy with the omnipotent eyes
has already left the building.
I'm on my third glass of White Zin
when you stop to tell me, "You're beautiful,"
and I melt.

I dare to caress your hand,
smiling to myself, not
caring what other people think.

I want to grab your hand again,
look into your eyes,
and kiss you hard.

I drink my wine instead,
willing you to become
the pink liquid...

if I could only
turn water into wine.



Lori Beal


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Miracle On Second Street

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