Hypothetics

I'd love to see the way you'd braid my hair
How your fingers would tremble after every plait
The pattern would get lost in your mind
You'd hesitate...
... And start again from scratch

I often dream of how you'd hold an instrument
In your arms,
As a child
You'd play like nobody cared about
Sour notes, and sing as if
Your pitch were perfect
I'd neglect the off keys

You'd please me a lot,
If you read books
Books that were falling apart,
Books so obscure the public library would
Blink three times and turn us away
I'd walk into your room and smell your knowledge
I'd stick my nose in between
Every volume,
And breathe in your scent

I'm sure you'd send postcards
From your travels
And memorize my home telephone
So that you could hear
My voice
So that I could hear yours
You'd write letters with a feather quill
So that you could give them to me,
The next day

My sleepless eyes wouldn't bother you
Tiptoe around my feelings,
Like a hunter at night
I'd read between your lines, as you'd speak
Cryptic messages to me,
Tangled in vines
But by the end we'd be too tired
And instead decide,
To settle down to watch a movie
The one you'd like.

Written by: Niloo Farahzadeh