A Book I Guess…

The choice is between

the written or spoken words

from the person I’m most in love with,

and yes, some can’t comprehend the importance

however, I suggest you take a moment

and thoroughly explore them.

Oh to tell a story with exaggerated expressions

arms move and sway with action,

there to simply reinforce intentions.

We belly laugh with anticipation

what was and what’s lost

are both found when we talk.

Now to the fun

lying in bed with our travel voices

pretending the voices in our heads

are what the author had intended.

To read our favorite book aloud

taking turns while thumbing through pages.

The climax comes crashing

just as the secrets are revealed.

True love still conquers all

or so says “The Time Traveler’s Wife.”

I can still see every expression you made, and yet,

there are some who refuse to read.

This life has been too profound

balancing in between

the schematic written words,

while some prefer,

the oral tradition in stories

passed down for centuries.

To suggest I am paralyzed by this late hour

does not mean I won’t read to you

quite on the contrary indeed,

in fact, I’ll mix both

the written and spoken words alike.

I’ve asked, almost prayed I guess

for someone to please

come and decipher my favorite book.

She loves me, or so she says

she just doesn’t have enough time

I can still count the number instances

where she swears and confesses

she loves me a million more times.

Those words have worn their welcome out.

I suppose I’ll go and read a book to myself

at least in there it’s predictable, after all,

all amazing written works of art

eventually come to that part

where we slow savoring every word

so that in the end whether told or read

we ache for another to start.

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