charcoal.

Singer:samsa

my exes? no

i don't think about them

i shrink around them

i go to see my shrink about them

on desperate nights sometimes i'm liking every picture on their linkedin albums

just in case they're single

i send winky symbols

i just hint it at 'em

i'm not thirsty

i'm just counting fingers at the drinking fountain

i feel like i'm drowning when i introduce myself to crowds: like hi

hello

i dig your sense of style

i saw your face across the room and grinned a while

i wonder

are you into smiles? i pinned a pile of polaroids up on my wall

i wish you'd be in one

a ring or child or wedding hall or aisle

you'd wouldn't see in them

i must profess i self-profess myself a cinephile

i've got every single indie title soundtrack out on indie vinyl

i've got some on usb

just tell me where to send the files

if you think this is dragging on

then you should read my tinder bio

i used to go to central park in cargo pants and whittle bark off little trees

like leonardo to my heart's content

with car keys from my 97' civic on a bench

i'd grab my metro card and clutch a cup of chocolate from a vendor cart

and then depart deep underground and check the clock and metro chart

and that is where i met her

charcoal fingers

she was sketching art

my self-regard leapt twenty notches when she looked at me

i told her i wished i could etch the world out with my pencil marks

she held the charcoal out

our fingers touched and crept apart

and when they lingered

lightning struck

i know

i saw electrodes spark

and when she smiled a hundred volts

her pearly whites were thunderbolts

the room around us did a couple somersaults

the earth had shifted off it's poles

another jolt went through me when she twirled her necklace

we were so electric

i swear the third rail was getting jealous

she curved a crater on the paper with the conte crayon

every stroke she lay spoke to my spirit like she called a seance

her fingertips could conjure chaos

every splash of color camouflaged

into the page

i swear that she had lingerie on

i felt the rumble of the subway tunnel crumble up

she perforated scraps of sketches

gave em' to me crumpled up

and bundled up and waved to me and walked toward the edge

i mustered up the strength to wave back and then dipped off of the bench

the train tiptoed to the ledge

it's open doors demanded entry

she got in and whispered to me from inside that it was empty

and my heart

it started drumming

my stomach

it started numbing

the doors began to slide

and then she asked me

are you coming? ""