I might be obsessed
But I’m not stalking
The man I love
His voice is enough.

My dream fulfilled
When at night the sound
Of spoken words
Reaches my mind.

This connection so pure
Yet ideally intimate
Nothing sexual
Still more complete.

Those whispered pictures
Slowly form desires
For a mind so innocent
Hardly to stand.

Because I’m deeply obsessed
With the man himself
There’s no denying
His voice isn’t enough.

        © Séamus Kennan / 2017