Through A Silent Moment He Whispered To Me

This barely audible larking will be my demise.
A throaty moan? An uplifting tone? Words forlorn?
From silence to a shivering whispers’ surprise

was that voice. It lingers from somewhere born
of wishful pleas or wistful deeds that deluged
my lungs; narrow-valved hushes, colloquy-adorned.

Though your exacting exhale is my literal refuge,
I cannot imagine unhearing your perceptions of me
and sparking better musings to aid in my rescue.

Your command, afloat in the wharf, buoyant seas,
is perhaps the best description of our enchanting,
yet, intrinsic relationship. A coughing’s wheeze,

a guilty, lone inquest, the only evidence supplanting
double meanings into my psyche’s ideals of devotion.
I must inhale truth past your complication’s panting.

Spoken wisps of tender fondness drifts in slow motion,
“Pass the salt, please.” – amidst my inner commotion. –

Written in response to a title PROMPT found here.

Experimenting with terza rima… hope you all enjoy this. #StrictlyPlatonic, haha!