Today familiar scents perforate
like hazy voices from distant places,
turn away from the dank cave
of scarred feelings. Today
scents flank expectations
that embrace promises
cloud-shaped in the eddy—
smelling of truth perfumed
in the delicate touch of words—
your fragrance filling my heart
hands that eternalize myths
that make the hours hum
the certitude in bloom
or Wednesday the making
and unmaking of another history
of love loving the afternoon
when lovers confess
to themselves they are
like water—name-petalled,
flowing, surpassing
the gauge of days.

Today here I am, smiting
the common pith of sorrow,
the crazy numerics
of your return in the country
of my mind.

editors note:

All our truths; love, expectations, promises; made more fragrant when “perfumed in the delicate touch of words.” – mh clay

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