Distinct Camber

I find myself slowly putting together this list,
this list of songs in
      my head
One, or four that I want to sing
        to you.

Maybe, perhaps, just find that
stage whisper,
a real,
really, quiet
one

One right to your ear.
With your crinkled nose
and smile that breaks my concentration
for days on end.

With my voice that is elocuted
to distinct camber above the
din.
Out at a bar
close nailed fingers finding
dark placed entry to
their possible place.
Together.

Or how I imagine your single bed
to be...

I won't tell you this. Just yet
Cripes, I won't even hint at it.

But when the time is right,
I have the perfect lullaby
It's right in my range,
with words known by heart.

It's a lull to the present
with a hint
to the future.

that

I just hope I have a chance to sing.