Scent Memory

XXXI Days of Poetry - Day the Twenty-third


Scent Memory 

You left a bottle of your perfume. 
Maybe on purpose; I cannot say. 
When sleep evades, I put a few 
drops on my pillow. The sense of
smell does not think; it feels, 
and it remembers. The briefest 
of scent-memories of you is enough 
to overwhelm my churning exhausted 
consciousness and bring me rest.


You are the hint 
of lavender and 
jasmine in the air, 
that scent of a hot, 
humid summer night 
I smelled once, long 
ago, and can never 
get out of my mind. 

XXXI Days of Poetry (2016)

Read more Poetry, including previous year's "31 Days"

[ART - 
     Intro: "A Dream of a Girl Before a Sunrise" by Karl Bryullov (1799–1852)
     Outtro: "Lady Resting on the Pillow" by Raja Ravi Varma (1848–1906)]

 As close to the Indian woman I want as I'll probably ever get

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