pihewa's listings

You scribbled verses in a battered notebook while I pretended to read emails. When you looked up and smiled, it felt like the city paused. If you remember the girl with paint-stained hands, let’s write a new chapter.

You were belting out “Don’t Stop Believin’” at Sing Sing on St. Marks and handed me the extra mic. I froze and missed my solo, but your laugh made the moment. Next time, I won’t miss my cue—or you.

You passed me twice on the Reservoir track, each time with a grin and a wave. I meant to match your pace, but only caught your infectious energy. If you see this, maybe we can race to a cup of coffee.

We kept bumping into each other between the frozen foods and organic bananas. You made a joke about “cart collisions in aisle five.” I wanted to ask if you were free for dinner, but you vanished at the checkout.

We locked eyes while watching the Manhattan skyline disappear, both clutching our coffee cups. I got off at Staten Island and you stayed on board—was your journey longer, or just beginning?

Your golden retriever tried to steal my bagel at Tompkins Square Dog Run while you read The New Yorker. I was too flustered to say anything witty. If you see this, maybe we can let our dogs have a rematch.

We both got hopelessly turned around looking for the Egyptian wing and laughed at our mutual lack of direction. You joked you were better at finding dinosaurs. I wish we’d gotten lost together a bit longer.

You were the one passionately defending Fleetwood Mac to your friend at Joe Coffee on Waverly. I chimed in about “Rumours,” but you were already late and left before I got your name. Would love to pick up the debate—and maybe a latte.

You sat across from me, reading Murakami and wearing a bright red scarf. We exchanged awkward smiles every time the train screeched to a halt. If you're still wondering about that book recommendation, let’s finish the conversation above ground.

We both ducked under the same awning on 14th Street, laughing at the downpour. You let me share your umbrella for two blocks before we went our separate ways at the crosswalk. The rain was cold, but your warmth lingered.

You sat across from me, reading Murakami and wearing a bright red scarf. We exchanged awkward smiles every time the train screeched to a halt. If you're still wondering about that book recommendation, let’s finish the conversation above ground.

You sat across from me, reading Murakami and wearing a bright red scarf. We exchanged awkward smiles every time the train screeched to a halt. If you're still wondering about that book recommendation, let’s finish the conversation above ground.