When she reads
Her voice isn’t a cliche
“like honey”
No, her voice is much more like an aged bourbon
going down like fire
and molasses
and, that voice inches from my ear
into my chest
and it burns
all the way down
and sweetens as it sits warm
in my belly
5 thoughts on "When she reads"
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I think this poem paints a gorgeous portrait
I agree with Shaun. I love your defiance of the “voice like honey” trope, how you describe her speech as burning bourbon, sweet molasses. Beautiful!
Intimate and beautiful.
Love it. Yes, our words can be sweet with a slow tasty burn.
This is beautiful!