Silence for A While

I think of your voice as
like being on the street in the market
at night's darkest hour
with all the lights on
don't know whose door you're gonna knock on...
dunno what you're going to smell first
or taste on the air
pleasantly drawing your senses in
every syllable rings of my solitude, and of
my hopes of care

don't ask, being sort of insane right now. wrote this poem two nights ago at ten. anyhow...stuff. Woohoo!
TFATF,
-Ahaneen