his voice is not
a low humming or brawl
like many mens' voices.
it is the strings
of an acoustic guitar
being played in the middle
of nature,
not skyscrapers.
it is soft and alluring,
confident but not
at the very same time.
it is sweet
like he is describing honey
and beauty
and the galaxy is shown
and talked about
and loved
constantly
and the people
are dancing
and singing along
and happiness is everywhere.
instead of cell phones and laptops
creating the illusion
that it's still happening
but with fakes smiles
and fakes hearts that are all but the color red
and clicks that
get rid of it
in an instant--
with an x the color red.
our history,
shown through
what made it so
and then our future
that is complicated
but not really for Mother Earth.
will is beautiful like that,
he understands that,
he keeps that dead,
and me,
and everything else,
alive.
his voice is handsome, it suits him,
like my arms around him,
and my head perfectly
on his shoulder,
and my hand
squeezing into place
with his, our fingers
brushing
as we walk around
in the mall.
his voice is a symphony
of love, not sympathy
and compassion, and passion,
and happiness.
I love it.
I love him.
his voice carries me,
like his arms never will,
and the wind around me,
is filled with music notes,
the life around me,
is all just him.
and I couldn't ask the universe
for anything different,
and never will.
my golden boy's voice
changes my world,
and might even be more beautiful
than his spinning galaxies.