Intoxicated Love

by on July 16, 2012 :: 0 comments

Her golden hair
Smells of cinnamon.

I am transfixed by her soft skin.

She holds my hand.
Our fingers connect like
jigsaw pieces.

She whispers into my left ear,
her lime blossom perfume glides up my nose.

The crowded bar that we are in suddenly
bursts into green flames. I see and hear
No one apart from the woman sitting in front of me.

I am inside a vacuum of a green haze,
Surrounded by the aromas

Of lime blossom, cinnamon

And the sweet pungent feminine smell
Of a woman.

editors note:

This one packs the harshest hangover. If you’re going to sustain it, inhale eternally. – mh

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