i found myself last night whispering your name under the shield of my duvet, willing myself to pronounce every syllable of your name to the darkness of my room. i looked up to the plastic stars on my ceilings, remainders of the childhood i once had, and said it:
“yoon. jeong. han”
every syllable clear and true.
and it occurred to me,
how beautiful your name was.
“yoon” — the moon and the whistles of the wind, lulling me into dreamland.
“jeong” — a masculine edge.
and finally, the concluding “han” that returns it into its original softness.
clean milky way.
i’ve never expected to fall for a boy with your name. but i’ve always been fascinated with the universe and all the bright lights surrounding our blue planet. so i guess, it is only fitting for me to fall for a boy whose name means “clean milky way”
so i whispered your name over and over into the night.
yoon jeonghan.
yoon jeonghan.
yoon jeonghan.
until the taste of it becomes as familiar as the quiet.
and i swear, i saw the plastic stars on the ceiling growing brighter with every syllable.
i whispered and whispered until i fell into morpheus’ charm, and awoke with a new realization:
*your name is my favorite sound.
to the boy who made me feel
{or alternatively — "it's 3 in the morning and you still haunt my mind so i decided to write this piece i wouldn't call poetry and post it on a poetry website for hundreds to see"}