The author.

It started with words.

The gorgeous fonts of your books

made my skin and soul melt,

how could I get jealous over print?

Then I met you,

and what was left from the willing pillage,

you stole the rest of my heart.

I keep waiting, my fingers on the screen

imaginary kisses on the glass surface,

Such unique views of reality,

whetting my appetite for bantering,

Without knowing, the magic of your stories

stay inside my body, warming it up,

hypnotizing my mind to the point

I couldn't imagine life without you.

I am always here waiting.

When will you see past the leather covers

and look into my face?

Will you ever see me and that I'm in love with you?