My Question

May 25, 2008
By Angelinda Chen, London, ZZ

A sentence,
beginning with a capital,
followed by a stream of twenty one letters, composing
five words, stopped by a hooked question mark,
can express the infinite volume of adrenalin that my vibrating heart pumps.

A question
asked at the end of a date, asked in a noisy classroom,
asked hopefully, asked desperately,
asked with down cast eyes, asked with a cocky grin
asked by a thousand pairs of lips.

Four years
of silent desire, of hearing you giggle,
of daydreams, of watching you dance,
collides together to create the Big Bang
that explodes out of my mouth.

I ask
while removing the layers of T-shirts and jackets
that carefully shelter my heart,
until I reveal the secret I hold
next to my naked soul.

I hope
you will answer my twenty one letters
with three letters
that holds promises of a breezy June night
of swishing dresses and hairspray cans and magic and wonder.

“Will you go to prom with me?”

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