How He Sounded

I was in my thirties
the first time,
I read the words,
I held the book,
I heard the voice,
and as I read,
the words,
they somehow
to wrap themselves
around me,
entered my
until embedded
in my DNA,
took root there
while I dreamt
upon a lake
the mountains,
and then I gave
the words away,
and I forgot for awhile,
about the voice
I had read there
upon the pages,
until I heard
the voice again,
but this time,
it was as if
my own blood
betrayed me,
and how, ever since,
I have tried,
but failed to forget
how he sounded.


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