23rd Street

He told her to meet her at the box. 

The one on 23rd street. He’d buy her dinner.

There was a particular canary he wanted her to hear. 

“It wasn’t about the singer,” he said.

Just the lyrics that happened to make him

Think of her. She smiled. Of course. 

She always smiled when he made her feel special.

A derrick that would rob a bank just to buy her diamonds.

Something he could never own and could never hold a price

In knowing the true value of luck in being in the presence 

Of her company. A daisy with the right flirtatious wink. 

Just the girl every guy wanted, yet she wasn’t impressed by.

Not the pro skirt type pushover everyone paid for. 

No. She was the woman you never crossed 

Nor ever introduced to your Mama 

Because she’d tell you she was heaven sent-

Something you never really deserved. 

“Ya follow?” she said with a smirk. 

Published by Ms. Selective

Traveling Gypse with a Heartfelt Spirit.

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