I’m no longer trying to make sense

The context of our texts 
lends no hint of what’s next 
I shall once again surrender 
Consider my submission legal tender 
A promissory note a duet of we
your voice playing me every time I breathe,
 
Your whisper moves me partnered like a minuet
Every word I believe bound to a pain dulcet
How great is this journey until respite in my chest
I go out of mind walking when anxiety is a guest
The places we hardly go or have never been
Somehow the air carries a lingering scent
I know THIS laughter of your joy makes sense.