I Can Hear Her Whisper

By: Justin Faith Ng

I Can Hear Her Whisper

 

I can hear her whisper

Her words forming into S’s and K’s

Each sound pounding into my heart

I can hear the corners of her smile

Forming up like the wings of a dove

I can hear her eyes blinking

Each microsecond hiding those blue eyes

 

A swig is all I need to get off my seat

As I approach

I can hear her whispers getting louder

I should speak like an intellectual

Women love intellectuals

And they love it more when they quote another intellectual

 

I stop as she yells

No longer a whisper

But a cry of joy

She laughs as I stop to think

She goes back to a whisper

And I can hear it all so well

 

From whom shall I draw my inspiration from?

Do women of today know the men of yesterday?

Fitzgerald was a lover

Hemingway was a fighter

And sweet, sweet Woolf was a visionary

Will she be impressed

Or we will she laugh at my impudence

 

I shall write something myself

I say

I shall match her whisper to my thoughts

I walk up to her

Improvisation is the key

I know it will hurt

But those whispers, are so much the worth

 

I hold her glass to get her attention

She looks at me with those blue eyes

I struggle to find the words

I’m in a maze with the greats of Christmas Past

And I can’t find any of them

But I can hear all of them

She smiles her smile

I return it

I gather my thoughts and speak most boldly

“Do you think,” I start

“The universe fights for people to be together?”

She tilts her head, her smile has turned to wonder

“Because,” I must continue

“Of all the women here, it called me out to you.”

 

She smiles her smile

And I can hear her whispers, louder this time

No longer the corners of her smile

But her white teeth like the White Horse riddle

No longer her eyelids

But her blue eyes swaying in the ocean

I can hear her heart

Pounding

And I know

She can hear my whispers loudly BW

Justin Faith Ng is currently finishing his final year in LASALLE College of the Arts, Puttnam School of film. He has no awards, no critically acclaimed films, no prize-winning poetry and/or short stories and no recognition in the literary world.

 

Still, he continues to write because he believes that writing gives him hope to wake up every morning and to sleep soundly every night.

He does spoken word poetry sometimes at destination: INK, and writes short stories on Facebook.

 

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