Thursday, 23 April 2009

• Currently A Lesson in Romantics By Mayday Parade Three Cheers For Five Years see related

  Like A Fifth Grader

  What am I,
  ten years old?
  I'm hyper and
  I'm being silly and
  I want to know the
  color you think of
  when you hear me
  say the word
  Singapore.
  Why? I don't even
  know...but I think
  of a burnt orange
  personally.

  But you say that
  you would need
  to hear me say
  it. Out loud.
  So I, confident,
  decide to do
  just that. So
  I "call"  and
  my nerves are sizzling
  and I listen and
  I can hear your breathing
  and I freeze and
  I'm turning electric, I swear.

  Your voice has turned
  me into mush, I swear
  it. The second time in
  my life I've heard it,
  and it's even better
  than the first time
  I heard it. It's
  that love factor,
  I'm pretty sure, but
  I shouldn't be turning
  red and rambling about
  Singapore's gum laws.
  I don't usually turn
  into a dork when I
  talk to anybody...
  but there's something
  about you that makes
  my stomach flutter
  and sometimes, obviously,
  my brain shut down.

  And you probably thought
  um...gum? and were
  confused about where,
  exactly, the conversation
  was going when my mother
  rescue-tortured me by
  making me get off the computer.
  
  I haven't stopped thinking
  about that voice, and what
  it would sound like saying
  my name, or whispering
  into my ear behind me,
  or lulling me to sleep,
  and I thought of something
  in those first few seconds
  when all I could hear after
  your initial "Hello?" was
  your light breathing:

  I revel in this silence -
  To hear you breathe is bliss!
  I quietly await the day
  Those lips are mine to kiss.

   

  and for the record...
  my voice saying
  Singapore
  makes you think of
  purple.
  
  and I like that.

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