Voice

Your whispers are like the first rain drops of the season,

Cold, soothing and something new.

With little whiffs of fog,

Clouding the atmosphere.

Your voice sounds like the air in the forest,

Rustling the leaves and the butterflies in my stomach.

Warm, light yet dense,

Filling up the environment.

Your sledges are like compliments,

Wanting me to feel good, but not.

Sharp, triggered and on-point,

Nearly avoiding to hurt me.

Your voice is like a maze,

Wanting me to get lost in it,

Yet find a way out,

While you whisper the directions to me.

FLY, I SAY