Your voice takes over mine

When I read poetry,
it is your voice I hear
as each word passes my eyes.

On long syllable words,
your voice hesitates
and mine takes over,

but when your voice
takes control again,
it whispers, sexy

as though
into a lover’s ear
on a dark night.

The final line,
surprisedly, is read
like the gentle rhythm

of rain
on a green,
metal roof.