The Exchange
Her voice, her tone bewitched
Like every staircase, escalator...
ever travelled all stopping
at her door...
Her voice mail was a taxi fare away...
Exchanges carried by fearless inhibition...
Like a storm without direction...
All weathers applaud her...
This reflection of her voice...
Mirrored by distant yet doubtless tone...
This tone, this honesty, this love...
This exchange...All angels know...
|