Your voice sounds like future music,
something that has not been thought up yet.
I can only imagine dreamlike tones,
it's true entertainment for the mind,

and I dreamt up your voice walking slowly for miles in my thoughts.
I picture your voice to be a symphony
of morning glory vines and violins

stinging me along, and this private
a concert is for my ears only, and I am playing
musical chairs on a runaway train of thoughts.
I tell you how words don't always need sound.

They find ways to cut corners and
I found a way to find you and you
stay uncut, well kept in a well Lit
corner of my thoughts.

Your voice is a lighthouse it is
luminescent when I am cocooned
in a dark corner standing on a
colorless ground fearing the butterflies

that cloud my Judgment, and make me
lose my train of thought.
Your strength teach me to sleep
peacefully with fire in my heart,

and smoke in my eyes, you feel to me like
Tuesday in an Indian summer, and warm
healing thoughts. In you, I found a safe house,
sweet nothings, and holiness in your blood.

When we speak in person
we will only speak in smiles,
and yours always reminds
me of an angel protecting my thoughts.