This Bartender Serves Me Some Spirit

I came to a hole in the wall bar on a hot and dark night in August,

the month of my birth.

I approached the counter looking for death,

but life filled my heart when she spoke to me.

She asked asked me how I was and I asked the same.

I said I was okay and she told me she was good.

I wanted to dig deeper, but the band in the background played too loud.

Her face was narrow with pinch worthy cheeks and creamy smooth skin.

Looking into those milk chocolate eyes coated this stone heart with sweet sincerity.

I could've gazed into her smile for an eternity if not for my neurotic nature.

Oh, I wanted to know her thoroughly, but I decided not to go through the trouble.

She shouldn't be interested in me.

I'm not father material, and she needs a step daddy for her boy.

My pockets were ever draining and she deserved much more.

My path was far away from that little corner of America and from her.

I drank my beer and made four sentences of small talk to her.

The rocking band behind me continued to drown me out.

I tipped her, she thanked me, and we exchanged goodbyes.

When I got into my car and before I turned the key,

I felt the warmth emanating from her, cried, and whispered to myself,

“I wish.”