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The Blog

"Teach Me How to Whistle"

The Ankh

Teach me how to whistle, how to portion my lips like dori's so  nemo would find me.

Teach me how to send waves from a silent ocean and crash them softly on the sand of your eardrums.

 I want to hear the assembly of my mouth marching to the platinum beats, sucking in air made of steel because for a moment I'll know it won't erode or rust.

 I see your shinning pearls smile at me as my face becomes distorted in the reflection of your framed glasses, desperately trying to make a sweet sound sing to your lovely cobbled ears.

Your pearls get bigger as i sight a pink substance now glowing in the width of your mouth.

 My cheeks  smooth as a baby's is full of stubborn air as I try with all my might to sing for you.

Despite my efforts, you keep those pearls bright in my face, blinding the pupils of my eyes that I didn't notice your index, lightly touching my chin, tilting my head to yours.

Still holding that distorted face but now, slowly,  producing instruments of flutes and violins.

I'm forming roses from the petals of your lips. There are no thorns to prick me because the sounds are beautiful, smooth, melodies to my ears.

You motion passionately  as we harmonize to the chorus, pumping your air into mine, easing my lips into the puzzle of yours. I hear it once low then loud, like church bells ringing, like two people stepping to the same African drum, one step, one breath.

You close my lids, linger on my lashes, and cause my ears to twinkle. 

By now I've sunken in the ocean of you. Waves are crashing into you and you hear my notes, prematurely then assertive. Baby he breathes standing on the white sand, watching me in the water of his eyes, you're whistling. 

-Teach Me How to Whistle" by Arnelle Williams '17