The Timbre of Your Voice

Photo by Niklas Hamann on Unsplash

Didn’t you once say
In that way you had of speaking
Wrapped tight and parcelled out
So that I became a miser
Hoarding all the wealth you gave to me
Determined to keep your words forever
To bring them out when I grew old
When time had stolen all your breath
And left me with a golem
Moulded by a memory

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