a song that moves your soul, moves your spirit . . . but you can't put your finger on the name of the song or the artisit, yet it plays in constant rotation in your mind. That is how I feel about our first conversation. Your voice has become a distant fog, a vague memory, that I am reminded of when I hear a voice like it . . . but such a thing doesn't exist because you are one of a kind and there is none like you. For the record, I still keep that memory close to me.
Trying to remember it.
Your voice.
You.
