The first time I heard your voice, I was struggling to turn the music on my phone off. It was kind of a one of a lifetime opportunity to me. I was sure I wouldn't hear it agin. My thumbs fumbled on the screen like a caveman, missing the pause button a few times.
There it was. It was deep, rich , even. The way the foreign syllables seamlessly rolled off your tongue was enchanting. There was hardly any cadence in your delivery, but I couldn't care less. Maybe it was the slight slur or the hint of levity in your voice that drew me in. I had no idea what you were saying, not even a rough outline or a sketch. Maybe you could whisper the same words to our children when they have trouble falling asleep , or you could hum a tune of reassurance and comfort into my eardrums if I wake up sobbing. Maybe you could sink your teeth into the helix of my left ear or nibble at my bottom lip or bite into.....
A club sandwich. Oh well. If that's your lunch.
I get it. They're the most affordable ones.
I guess.
Ew. I hate tomatoes.
YOU ARE READING
A Daydream In Paris
Humor13 people get their heads in random clouds. Parisian clouds , to be specific.
