His words like the ocean so full of depth not a thing was shallow about his work. 

Each verse ran smooth with a profound sort of swagger one couldn't resist. 

She could easily get lost in descriptive metaphors and she often did. 

Her mouth quoting his intelligent thoughts and memorizing stanzas till late. She longed for the conversation behind each piece. 

What inspires the writer inside? What urges him to pour out his heart upon the page? 

His stories of adventure and trials were told in a rhyme and she wanted to be swallowed whole by the song. 

She desired to write in such a way that moved people the way he had moved her. 

She wondered if he read her scribbles and enjoyed it with a smile on his face. Or if he admired her style of expression. Did he spend hours contemplating the same line? 

The coffee ran over causing the metal to sizzle. Steam masked her face interrupting her train of thought mid swoon. 

She sighed...with all these thoughts jogging around in her head she felt the only thing to do was to write.