sound of my voice

i bet you miss the way my voice sounds

i bet you miss the way my voice flooded your bedroom
when i woke you in those cool mornings
and crawled into your skin
i bet you miss the way my voice cooed
in thoughtful, concerned voice mails
left for you like presents after long shifts and hard nights
i bet you miss the way my voice crept into your eardrums
as i laid upon your chest 
whispering of your grandness
like a mistress to the sultan
i bet you miss the way it rang
from the resonance of my laughter
pooling in your memory
chiming outside your window
i bet you miss the way it sounded
hushed, engraved into your neck
as we found solace inside each others bodies
i bet you miss the way it sang
reciting our favourite lines while we
watched indie films beneath boroughs of linen
i bet you miss the way it shifted
flirting with accent and melody
always making you smile
i bet you miss the way it serenaded
telling you, so often, how much i loved you
how precious you were to me
how you were my world.
[are]
i bet you miss the sound of my voice
affirming my presence
making me alive

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