When I Wore The Perfume Of Your Sins
Oud— your signature musk I remember.
Warmth and grounded, tame and woody,
Steep memories of wishes I'll never gather—
Cold cruel sillage, bright woodland, yours.
If— I adorn your musk I dismember.
Heavy and cold, wild and leaded,
Cruel words define the sins you waver
Bright stinging scent, damp crumbled, yours.
I never asked to adorn the scent of your sins
Yet, I got a dream— it wasn't what I wanted.
— Tears, sobbing, salty and heavy.
Low, evil— distinctly you
Copyright © Steve Hendrickson | Year Posted 2025
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