Your Voice

Your words are not the problem
For I can read between the edges of your syllables
The problem is that the timbre of your voice
Drips slowly from your lips and hangs heavy on my ears
Like dense pearls threatening to tear the delicate skin of the lobe
The tip of your tongue caresses with the melodic rhythm spoken by your ancestors
A rhythm heavy like viscous honey that’s at once nurturing and foreboding
Like mana from the gods made for starving souls who fear the mystery that brings them life

“Your Voice” by Azul Serena


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