You can't date a writer.
For lack of a better term, or phrase,
or whatever the writer will have you
believe. He will introduce you to
many artists, some like him, others not,
and that will ultimately build intrigue.
By his side, you will feel as if you're
the apple of his eye, but when alone together
his eye will be fixated on blank pages
or ones filled with the right words.
Don't fret, by the second
month you will know which
words are right and which ones
are wrong. He will tell you to
mind the binding on the books you borrow.
And you will, until the first fight happens.
You'll think that the fight is over,
but don't think that the words shouted at each other
weren't written down.
The day you find these words, the oh-so-familiar
words will start the next fight.
And be prepared to tighten up once more,
because this next fight will be just as embellished as the first.
Before the third fight he will buy you a journal,
possibly lend you a pen,
lend being the keyword,
because he will expect it back.
He will ask to read what you've written,
as he saves his work on his laptop and closes
the top, because it locks right away.
If and when you open his laptop it will bring
you to a home screen.
If you're lucky your name will appear under his,
if not you have his permission to log on as a guest.
This will eventually become the pebble
that rolls down the mountain,
albeit those pebbles don't necessarily
mean that an avalanche is on its way.
Only time will tell.
Or breaking into his laptop might.
But right now his eyes are on you,
because he would like to read...you.
And isn't that the reason you wanted
him to begin with?
To read you like one of his books?
Or maybe it's your fascination with artists,
because who doesn't want to be
drawn like a French girl.