I was wandering by and saw your door open.
You were crying.
You were laughing.
You were telling a story.
I stayed.
I stopped.
I listened.
And, in accordance with my nature,
I fell in love.
Just a little bit.
Just a spark.
This is what I feel about the people whose work I read regularly.
Maybe it’s wrong to fall in love with a person who is only this collection of thoughts and ideas.
Or maybe it’s the best way to fall in love
To love the mind and heart and dream
To know you would not love them less for meeting
