you can't smell a sunset
though the wispy clouds
that frame the waning twilight
feel like a fragrant memory
like ~ leaving the room
and pausing...
one last backward glance
that becomes yesterday
- no eye contact -
just a slight upward curl
at lip's edge...that fades
like the beach rose scent
on the surf's briny whisper..
until, it all becomes one
in the night
~almost like the day
never happened
yet, its essence
will awaken every second
on some tomorrow...
He bought his wife fake Chanel Number Five
It smelled like a skunk - no longer alive!
Just one whiff and he knew
Eau de ‘Pepe la Pew’
From clenched fists he would have to duck and dive!
20th May 2015
Zygoma collection
Her faces bottled-
Ninety percent fool proof
on my mind. . . on my sheets. . . your essence
essence infused
an aromatic sprinkle ~
unscented I drink
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