Pant Scent

She bought the underwear I am wearing, The blankets I am sleeping in: The pots I am cooking in: The lotion I am smearing on my skin; All I have are her pants To remind me of her beautiful scent; I am tired of living like a fool, Away from the only love I know; I didn't want to write, I am having strange dreams I don't know how I will make this right; But I just have to. Satan hates the best of relationships, For certain, This time he won for the last time. Now I am sleeping with her pant On my nose, Just falling short of licking it!