There are always two sides to every story.
Your shadows looked like you were holding hands. You were probably in love.
You weren't.
Your outlines looked so close.
You weren't.
Your heads, bent close together, made it seem like you were whispering into each other's ears; of promises that were not made to be broken.
You weren't.
You looked like you cared for each other the way more than friends do.
He wasn't thinking like that.
You looked like you knew what was happening, but truth is he likes her as much as she likes him.
She wasn't thinking like that.
You two looked like a couple in love.
They were.
They are.
Your shadows meet, and it looked like they describe love.
There are two sides to every story.
(Read this from the previous line, bottoms up.)
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