When she spoke
The sound of her voice
Was like the trumpet of divine will
On creation day: soft like magic
Rhythmic like a prayer
Solemn like an incantation
Performative like a judicial sentence
And when she laughed
Her laughter was hypnotic and new
Like the world’s first laugh ever
Her beauty was surreptitious like a dream
It crept in like a mist at the break of day
So I sat  and listened to the melody of her voice
and it felt like I was swathed in the aura of her eyes