We reached for the same copy of "The Catcher in the Rye" and laughed, both refusing to take the last one. I regret not asking you out for coffee in the reading room. Let's finish that chapter together.
You held an umbrella over my head as we both waited for the light to change, then dashed away into the downpour. I never got your name or the chance to thank you for saving my hair—and my day.
Tuesday night, Madison Ave, pouring rain—you offered to share your massive yellow umbrella for three blocks and we talked about our least favorite boroughs. I never got your name but I'd love to finish that rainy-day conversation.
You were playing "Dreams" by Fleetwood Mac on your guitar and smiling at everyone. Our eyes met as the train swayed, but I got off at Jay St before I could say hi. Were those lyrics for me?
We both reached for the last slice at Joe’s on Carmine, laughed, and you let me have it (chivalry isn’t dead, I guess). Wish I’d offered to split it instead—maybe we can grab a proper pie together?
You were reading a worn copy of "Catcher in the Rye" between 1st Ave and Bedford, headphones in, smiling at something in your lap. I was the guy juggling two coffees, trying not to spill—did our eyes meet, or was that wishful thinking?
Tuesday night, Madison Ave, pouring rain—you offered to share your massive yellow umbrella for three blocks and we talked about our least favorite boroughs. I never got your name but I'd love to finish that rainy-day conversation.
You were playing "Dreams" by Fleetwood Mac on your guitar and smiling at everyone. Our eyes met as the train swayed, but I got off at Jay St before I could say hi. Were those lyrics for me?
We both reached for the last slice at Joe’s on Carmine, laughed, and you let me have it (chivalry isn’t dead, I guess). Wish I’d offered to split it instead—maybe we can grab a proper pie together?
You were reading a worn copy of "Catcher in the Rye" between 1st Ave and Bedford, headphones in, smiling at something in your lap. I was the guy juggling two coffees, trying not to spill—did our eyes meet, or was that wishful thinking?
We reached for the same copy of "The Catcher in the Rye" and laughed, both refusing to take the last one. I regret not asking you out for coffee in the reading room. Let's finish that chapter together.
You held an umbrella over my head as we both waited for the light to change, then dashed away into the downpour. I never got your name or the chance to thank you for saving my hair—and my day.
