Happy
I’m sorry
(but really, I’m not)
Because
I’m utterly addicted
To your laugh
And how it distracts me
In the just the right way
I can hear it vibrate in your throat
As if it lives inside your Adam’s apple
Right in the round perfect center of your neck
Holding tight until that moment
When your lips come up to smile
To free the baritone wonder
And when your lips part then comes
The sweet release of the decadent hum
And it sounds nothing less than the very definition
Of happy
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