Saturday, October 30, 2010

Post-Call

a three hours phone call. an evening with butterflies in the stomach. a lot of walking-down the memory lane. she's now trapped.

all thats ringing in her head an hour post-call is his voice. there's this thing in his voice. she doesnt know what it is but she remembers exactly how she was drawn to him as he speaks, just like honey bee to flowers. those eyes and that smile, sigh, she can't help but wonder if she's ever met anyone like this mischievous yet irresistible. sometimes she thinks she knows him, sometimes he's so elusive, but she likes him most when he catches her off-guard and surprises her with a side of him she's never known; like that tenderness of him. that tenderness could so easily be overlooked.

the fond memories at the train station, pharmacy store, puddles of water, high heels, ever spontaneous and cheeky response that cracks her up all time, the sweet mornings and space invading, making fun, winbledon, scribbles of note, lil blue box - she doesnt know how not to fall in love.

it’s gonna be a wintry world of long distance and time differences, but she's really excited that in a months time they will be in each other's arms again.

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Missed Call

this is all that matters.

the message. you. your voice.

i have the voicemail to replay itself. you speak, i smile.

thats all i need for the night.