Write that down...

We hadn't talked for a while.  It was late.  I promised to be good. 
And I was.
For the first 25 minutes.


Afterwards, after I heard her gasp in the darkened living room.
After I had seen her smile,
the twinkle in her eye, that most exquisite moment


She said, "you ought to write that down."


We both smiled, said good night, and went our way.


And I tried.


I tried to remember the words that painted a picture for her.
The words that encouraged her.
The words that pleased her.


But I couldn't. 
Oh, I know what words were used, but the order is lost, the voice is missing, they are just words. 
I can't capture them out of the moment because we spoke, and it was the voice, not the words. 


She gave me permission to speak the words I wanted to say.
She gave herself permission to listen.


I forget the words, but I do not forget the look.


Not the final look, the climactic face frozen as backs arched and muscles fired.


That's not the image I want to remember forever.  It was another look.


As her hands wandered and she found her touch, she closed her eyes, and listened.


She listened to my voice, to my words, to instructions, yes,
but I hope she heard my heart, my thoughts, my love.


Do we listen enough
Do we hear what is being said?


She closed her eyes and listened, and let my voice carry her away.


As she did, she etched herself into my world forever.


By just quietly listening, to my voice.