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.