The Vespa Girl

Decades from now,

when the far future has become the past.

When there’s silver on my head,

and wrinkles under my eye.

When the old lads are drinking

by the fire, telling stories

about the beautiful women

that they had known.

And when my turn comes,

I’ll feign a smile,

And say, “just the one”

and take another drink,

and smile some more

and that is when

I will tell them about you.

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