What allures my senses?

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/for a dear colleague, Anees/

Listen to this song 
while reading 


Is it the strength of her voice or the depth of her baritone

Baked in humility. When she looks, her eyes reflect 

A question, she cannot ask. 

She speaks not from the tip of her tongue but from the 

Bottom of her gut

It is laced with a nobleness, 

as soft as the handwoven clothes she drapes 

But none see it for their senses are veiled 

With the loudspeaker of a blaring noise

That only deafens their conscience and 

Mimics nincompoops





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