Saccharin

In perfectly deafening silence, he stared at me

As if his eyes meant to undress me to my bones

Unclear as to what his thought process may be

In inscrutable expressions, his voice carried the smallest drone.

And Like warm coffee with whipped cream, it enveloped me

With A delightful bitterness, but not bitterness alone

And in it, I lost myself, (whoever she’d be)

Forever in my mind, would his low voice roam.

But I came to learn as he and I became ‘we’

There were many expressions I’d yet to know

For whenever he’d grin ear to ear, it’d seem

this conversant voice would carry a tone

with an effervescence that could make a soft drink out of tea

he moved me with a laugh that cleaved at the hardest of stone.

Remarkably enough, he’d made a fool out of me.

But I’d gladly remain his fool, and I alone.