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The Café
By Phyllis Beebe
Where they bring you a carafe of wine
And don't care how many breadsticks you eat.
A longhair'd guy sits in a
corner
playing guitar
Like you never heard before
And smiles when you buy him a beer.
I'd
like to take you there tonight
Just to
listen to the music
And make love to you with
my eyes.
Maybe you'd come home with me at
midnight
To listen to Vivaldi by the
fire
And sleep with me because we're both
alone.
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