VIII

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i wish i was the girl
from the back of the coffee shop

the one with a stack of books
just waiting to be read
with a mug of coffee in her right hand
and jane eyre
in her left

with her thrift shop clothes
and a messy bun
and a pair of round glasses
that droop down her nose

i wish i was that girl
from the back of the coffee shop

the one with her best friend by her side
him reading a novel knowing it was her favorite
while she concentrates with creases between her eyes
both in their own little world of fantasies

the one who carries a journal
so she can remember every moment
leaving each word to create and everlasting image
to portray people and events of that day

i wish i was that girl
from the back of the coffee shop
with coffee stains and endless words
etched and laced into the depths of her sould

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