I have never told you this (with what few words we exchange), and I probably never will for I never can, but--

to be honest,
your voice is in my list of favorite things.

You just have this way of playfully emphasizing your rich, sonorous baritone--whether it be in speaking:

       orotund, crisp; with a slight, inviting hint of English; with a diction so
       frustratingly flawless and bold;

or in subtle singing:

       singsong and silvery; one you would consider very fitting for a musicale;
       modulated and just downright beautiful;

or in mere humming:

       smooth and resonant; the type which would find its place in your soul,
       eventually leaving but never failing to leave remnants of its sojourn.

Sigh.
I wish I talked to you more.

Labels: mir, one of the things that make up your perfection, voice