The Fool

He woke up with a smile on his face,

Brushed his teeth, combed his hair,

With his fingers like he usually did.

And he was still smiling.

A fun tone filled the auditorium,

In his head.

A light peppy romantic number.

And he swirled around in his room,

Imagining a giant park,

With no one in it except for

A few benches and some rain,

And a fellow- dancer.

He was wearing his favorite half- sweater

And looked like a school teacher.

She looked like an angel,

In a salwar.

He stepped on a bench,

And she looked up at him,

He stood on the edge and spread his arms apart,

He lost balance,

But it looked beautiful,

Because she put out her hands,

As he came down.

They were born to dance this way,

In this rain,

And together.

The sharp adjustments,

The fine movements,

The chemistry- ah it was sizzling.

Their faces wet,

The smiles and the nervous tension.

She spun away from him,

And he went chasing after her

She’d suddenly stop,

And spin back,

To meet him half way.

His heart knew no joy like this,

Each step brought out another bout,

Of insane happiness,

Happiness that was too real.

He looked in to her eyes,

To see the devil,

Of malice and broken dreams,

But his body took over,

And he went on dancing,

Happy to sink in to those doe eyes,

Happy to just be.

The bloody fool was falling in love.