Lauren by Rich Quatrone



Just 20 years old.
My god, what a lovely young woman.
A girl, really.
I’ve been chatting with her all year,
which means what, she was only 19?
She smiles as soon as I entered the store,
calls hello across the room.

O, Lauren, lovely young woman.
I am an old man now.

We missed our chance by 50 years.

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