I didn’t know I was to fall in love.
We only just met. Him, the night janitor, shunning an emptied mall. Me, a pale meditation, working to be filled.
I admit to playing coy. I eluded those ink-stained fingers, and stumbled down false corridors. He followed with a traveler's curiosity, and the ticklish frustration. I lost myself in the shadows, but he was always there, pinning me against the wall, making me believe in this new architecture. I saw myself reflected in the windows of his eyes, and laughed into the night.
From the darkness, another laugh rebounded.
And so I found this other laughing man, and we laughed together, as shadows in our Writer's puppet theater.
I didn’t know I was to fall in love.
But for His words.
Bridging the paper synapses of our hearts.
