One morning when the sky was just waking

One morning when the sky was just waking, she passed by me like a gentle breeze, it seemed the earth spun only for her, and I stood still, my gaze glued to her steps, her scent, oh, that scent wrapping around me like an enchanted mist, leaving behind a trail of unstarted and unknown memories. Her scent had the aroma of dawn, light dancing on the sky's edge, promising a new beginning, a ray of sunshine playing among the awakened leaves, it smelled of rain that came unexpectedly, the sky torn between clouds and sun, Mother Nature spilling diamonds, each drop becoming a fleeting star. She smelled like home, not a home bought, but one built from stories and laughter, memories stuck to the walls like old wallpaper, hiding the secrets of a life lived intensely, haunted by the ghost of who I was, the shadow of a forgotten dream that still whispers. And I think of how her scent envelops me, transforming me into a river of thoughts, seeking a shore to cling to, no stone solid enough, no anchor strong enough, I remain captured in this stream of consciousness, caught between reality and illusion, between who I was and who I am now.