B

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FOR B

By Maan “Maggie” Villar

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

 

 

Listening to Clara C and Sam Ock’s “Little Light” makes me think of you, why is it that whenever we hit each other up, we always have those talks of living together, sailing away in our own little boat, flying away… far far away… Away from the world… why baby? What are your reasons for having these talks with me?

 

I am not even sure if you’re serious when you talk to these things about me…

 

But hey, those talks of being together, maybe getting hitched if things do work out… Maybe…

 

We’ll see when we spend December together…

 

But yeah, listening to this song, beautifully crafted, it’s a song about our “thing”…

 

If all else works out fine, which I hope will, I just wanted to tell you something, put it out for public consumption and for your own enjoyment and thought:

 

Baby,

 I’m a pencil and paper kinda gal,

 mortar and pestle…

 

 I’m the type who would rather a cottage,

Country style interiors,

 Filled with books,

 Tubes of paint,

 And an old piano.

 A flower box I would water with a rusted watering can

 And a hammock or wooden swing on our porch to spend the late afternoons in,

 Just when the sun is about to set.  

I would choose that over a trendy flat,

In an address to-die-for in the heart of the city…

That’s how I’m old fashioned,

 and romantic…

 

So don’t fret when I cannot reach you on some days,

It’s either I am busy or simply because I do not have Internet at home…

I am low on the technology side,

Which is why up to now,

 Even after breaking my supposed Valentine’s Day with you over Skype,

 I still do not have it set-up.

But I’ll make an effort,

to reach you,

get closer to you despite the large geographical and time differences we have between us.

Hawaii…

 

I’ll try catching up your pace…

And yeah,

Maybe set-up my connection at home…

I’m just avoiding too much dependence on the Internet,

And distraction.

 

I like borrowing books from the library,

Sniffing the yellowed and frayed pages of the old ones,

And its leather binding.

I like making my own bookmarks.

I like cutting the articles I like in the newspaper.

Keeping back issues of magazines,

And looking in the encyclopedia for information,

Or the dictionary for definition…

Rather than typing away on Google…

Heck…

I don’t even have Internet connection at home…

I’m old fashioned like that babe…

 

I would fancy a Saturday night watching TV on your lap,

Cook chicken soup when you’re tired or not feeling well,

Have a walk in the garden early mornings,

Hand in hand…

And a hearty breakfast afterwards…

Sunny side up eggs, bacon, pancakes and milk.

Have an afternoon nap under your embrace,

Breeze on our faces,

In our little hammock…

And cold nights in front of the fireplace,

Pine wood burning,

And glasses of wine,

Under a red blanket,

While you tell me stories of your life,

And I tell you my secrets…

 

But you’re there along the beaches,

Thousands of miles,

A whole different time zone,

This romance is too modern for me…

 

But I think about you all the time,

I’m waiting for you,

Having a sliver of hope that we could make this work,

Because in those brief moments we text or email,

I feel happy,

You make me believe in love again,

That it is possible…

Even in this modern type of romance,

And I got in to this

Despite being old-fashioned in my ways…

Pencil and paper,

Mortar and pestle…

 

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