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It was Sunday the 26th and I drove next to you on Caesar Chavez for blocks towards Burnside. Passing the Hawthorne theater and Freddie’s. I was hoping you’d turn to me so I could ask for your name and number, but the lights changed too quickly. I watched you, your leg tattoos and your Vespa ride off into the night like a bat from Austin to Galveston. Your dress flowed in the wind on top of your silver Vespa. Maybe we’ll meet again. The guy in a black Subaru Outback (like every damn person in this city). Au revoir shoshana….
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