the fragrance writer

With you, I am
aroused and enraptured
And lose myself in
lips of scarlet red
And silky hair that
lays along the hills
With one glance of
your eyes, I’m captured

To the mountains,
Let us run
To gardens,
now unlocked

With curves that conjure caractures of beasts
With bodies, beading perfume, resins sweet,
Of saffron, pomegranates,
and of oud
You liven me
intoxicatingly.

An entourage
of popularity 
An enfleurage
of femininity 
Here she comes.

I should stop
and stare
It feels like
I should care
Intoxicated
like the other ones

But in my mind,
it’s not the case
My mind inhabits
another place
Where she who i love
was here with me

The perfume oil
shimmers on my skin
Just like wet ink,
before dryness sets in
Yes, happy to be
writing- still, again

Pens drawing
circles in the mud

The movements move,
but I am not within
Just waiting for
the next one to begin
Like comets who,
in years, return again

Too late at night,
I long to see my love
My roaming thoughts
head down a lonely street

I knock, but you delay,
In your bed you lay
Dejected – I walk away.

My restless heart,
carried by tired feet.
I’m asking strangers,
“Have you seen my love?”

Don’t miss the taste of fruit
while ripening
As on this day
our nature starts to rise
You hear it in
the cooing of a dove

An invitation;
take my hand

You smell it in
the blossoming love
Timidity decides –
and it unhides
Dear, do you feel the
feelings of our Spring?