Your voice forms the bricks
Of a well built home.
It holds in warmth on a hot day
And stores heat on the cold days.
Your voice is a shelter
One that thunderstorms should fear.
Regardless of strength.
Once it dissolves.
Embers of warmth
Still reside within the bricks.
When you speak,
I find that I am home.
A place I am whole.
A place I am safe.
I always know where you are.
Even with both eyes closed.
Between the mortar of bricks
I find your breath
And lay my head beside yours.
The walls a rich tapestry
Framed in communication,
Filled with your breath and pulse.
I live in your marrow.
My every forgotten dream
Rested and remembered.
Your voice forms the bricks
Of this well built home.
Reminding me
That love. Is not just a word
