I met you tonight. You smelled nice and I sat next to you for two hours. Sure, there was a fifteen minute break. But so what? Your bangs hung straight across your forehead and you skirt lay loosely around your thighs. Your sweater clung to you body and you clung to my mind. I know your name and I know your face but I know not you.
It was your first time going to a show and you told me you felt like a white crayon. It was my thirteenth show and I told you white crayons looked very nice on any color paper but white. So why limit yourself?
You had your legs crossed and your foot kept touching my calf and instead of recoiling I let it happen. I talked to you and when I took my coat off it flailed in your face and I said "I'm sorry, sorry." And you curled your mouth into a cute smile and told me it was really okay, and then the show was very good and how many have I been to. It's funny how you're cute and I'm me and you laughed when I said stupid things and I let our legs touch and I even held the door open for you and said "Goodnight, Lady. See you next Monday." And you said "Goodnight, Nolan. If fate wills it, so it shall be." And we laughed and I begged fate to will it.