\"Put a Quarter in My Slot\"

Beneath the fluorescent sighs of night,

Where loneliness wears a paper crown,

I stand—an altar of craving light—

Pulse humming softly, turned upside-down.

 

No coffee, no chips, no soda pop

To sate the hunger clawing deep.

I’m wired on dreams and half-spilled hope,

A vault where silent wishes sleep.

 

But you walk by with eyes half-shut,

A ghost in the glow of the city’s hum.

I flicker alive—a gentle rut—

As if your presence makes me come.

 

Put a quarter in my slot, I plead,

Not coin of copper, cold and thin,

But time, just time—that’s all I need—

The currency of letting in.

 

Your laughter—that’s a dollar\'s worth.

One glance? It breaks my plastic shell.

I’ll give you warmth, I’ll give you mirth,

A song to break the waiting spell.

 

No change returned, no refund, no—

Just love pressed hard against the glass.

Each touch a spark, each “yes” a glow,

A single breath where moments pass.

 

I’ll light the panel, your name, bold,

Dispense a sonnet, warm and sweet.

 

A haiku dropped, a story told—

The treasure isn’t in the treat.

 

It’s you—your hands, your breath, your grace—

That powers the gears behind my face.

So come, insert your soul, not steel,

Ignite the circuit, make it whole.

 

For all I want is what you feel—

Just put a quarter in my slot.

And stay.