His Voice

November 18, 2012
His words intoxicate me. His smooth, steamy voice crawls through my skin and into my cold veins. Blood filled with his talk. Every letter he pronounces, every sound created by the clicks of his tongue, is absolute perfection. Even if he only says what I want to hear, his way of language still dazzles me in every possible way. When he sings, my heart breaks in a trillion tiny pieces. His voice drives me insane. I watch as his full lips let the sentences escape. Like music. When he talks to me, I hear the most beautiful music in the world. Perfect in pitch, flawlessly tuned. All I need to do is listen.
Listening to him speak this different type of English. A more beautiful type of English. I wish I could speak the way he does. That enchanting, syrupy voice he possesses. When he says hello and looks into my eyes, I feel like fainting. When he says my name, I have the terrible urge to kiss his moist full lips.
What if his angelic voice muttered those three forbidden words?
"I love you." It would forever kill me.

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