She is far from me. I get to know her slowly, slightly. Part by part, she lets me learn who she is. First, her words. Then, her eyes, her lips, her hair. Her breasts, her ass, her thighs, her leg. And her voice.
What is it about her voice? There’s power, and intimacy, in it. Power over me, to evoke a response as strong as (stronger than?) actually seeing, actually knowing her would or could.