The sound of your voice is a song.
It is to my ears like a lather of soap to a miner's skin.
It is vital, it's a tidal wave on desert sand.
It soothes me like honey tea soothes a throat.
It's smooth, viscous, and it makes me shiver.
The sound of your laugh is playful.
It lifts my heart because it means you're happy,
Or at least something close to that.
It starts low and ends high, it's so beautiful
It makes me cry. Your laugh is therapy.
The sound of your speech is awe inspiring.
It gets attention, it puts the message across.
Whatever you say makes sense because you say it,
Or maybe it's the other way around.
I could listen to you speak forever, and the day after.
I wish I was on the phone with you now,
You would speak and I would listen.
Maybe I could make you laugh,
Or maybe none of that happens and we stay quiet
As you breathe and exist. That would be enough.
Taqdirul Islam is a pigment of someone's imagination, he's blue and yellow and purple. Tell him what other colours he can be at email@example.com