Singing

I can’t sing, at least not well.

And you say you can’t either.

But that doesn’t stop us from singing along to every song that comes on the radio, even if we don’t know the words, when we’re driving with the sunroof open and not a care in the world beyond what food adventure we’re having next.

But even if we can’t sing, I can still hear music when I’m around you.

Every one of your sentences is a song: each word a verse, each pause a bridge, each stutter a staccato rhythm, every breath a swell of music, and every exclamation a climax. And I could listen to your songs all day.

But my heart plays its own music in response to yours, with every accelerato rapidly increasing my heart rate just because I’m near you, with every rest as my heart skips a beat when you look my way, with the fortissimo loud beating of my heart when your face is close to mine.

And when we’re ever closer, lying side by side, our breathing plays a duet, at sometimes synchronized and at others weaving together intricate bars of a calm, quiet music.

We can’t sing, but I will learn every one of your favorite songs on the piano just to see you smile.

We can’t sing, but I’ll sing out the beating of my heart if only it would make you happy.

I can’t sing, but I will serenade you with every love poem that I write to convey how much music you bring to my life.

And I don’t need you to sing either.

All you have to do is say yes.

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About periwinklenightshade

I am a university student who looks at the sky and speaks the first sentence that comes to her head - and each sentence is then the inspiration for writing. I have always wanted to be writer, and I hope my poetry prose will touch the hearts of my readers. And I hope that my activism speeches will bring out the fighting spirits of everyone who sees them. View all posts by periwinklenightshade

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