For one night, shall I
grant myself some sleep
And lay me down upon
this lily bed?
A sickness streak is
finally, now, done.
No longer hunger leaves
my stomach light.
And I’m at
a loss for words.
My heavy eyes are
ready for respite
As evening shade sets
in after the sun.
Tonight’s soft musk
intoxicates my head
To, now, allow myself
good news to keep.
the fragrance writer 