Your words are like fine wine.

I drink them slowly,

Tasting each syllable and the way you say them,

Savoring each phrase from your lips to mine.

The sound of your voice calms my being.

And relaxes my chaotic mind.

I’ll never have my fill.

You speak so scarcely,

Aging that wine to perfection each time.

I’ll constantly be in a haze of bliss,

If you are around me,

Filling my glass with sips of pure sweetness.