His voice reminds me of sex and poetry.
Like whiskey, smooth with a slow burn that lights me up from the inside.
His voice disturbs the rhythm of my heart.
I want to drown in his passion and be ravished by his words.
His voice is honey,
flowing over my senses softly,
touching me gently in unseen places.
I revel in his auditory seduction, clenching my legs together
as he seduces my mind with his tongue. (AjWs)
I’ve been told that if you repeat a word over and over it loses its meaning.
I have spoken your name countless times,
hoping that you will mean less to me with each breath.
2 thoughts on “His voice, my Muse”
Good reading your ppost