Poem for her 356

Dear Readers,


Hot Butter


Your voice is hot butter on my tongue
Melting into my hearing as you whisper
The sounds of sighs that speak volumes
I'd spread you out thin and let you sink in
To make my skin live for a while longer
As I melt into your whispers
I hear you softly say Night Night
And I want to draw a thousand lines
Slowly paint your voice in shades of cream
Sweet butter of the dreamy textures
You make me hold my breath and listen long
I love the textures of your voice
The day brightens when I hear you
Even if the gloom outside is heavy
Your voice makes it so much lighter
The hot butter of your whisper melts me

Happy Birthday Babe,

Charles.