The Scent of Love

The Scent of Love

A scent, curling around me, as
snakes in the throes of passion
marking my memory so keenly…
A mark so deep, so real it might
never fade, forming my soul anew
connecting new pathways I never
thought possible. And yet they are.
They are real, tangible and there
In my life. I inhale again, to be
sure it's no mirage, no olfactory
delusion, created by my desires,
my secret needs and wants, hiding,
hidden, invisible to all but me. Inside
it becomes greater, the scent, filling my
world, possessing me like nothing else
ever could. It's an addiction, a dangerous
weakness I should not indulge in and yet I
do. I am lost, wonderfully lost, helpless in
the face of its power. So pure, so sharp, so
right, I cannot believe that I ever failed to
realise it was there, so close, so much more
than it objectively should be. How could it ever
elude me? How could it escape the notice of
what I so very clearly know is seen
as my most defining feature?
The stigma of my heritage, or is
it a blessing? But it was always
like that. Always just out of
my reach, forever those two
steps ahead. Never, ever
behind. A goal out of
bounds, a shiny prize
I strain for, a golden
promise for more. I
have it now, senses
filled, desires slaked,
I inhale, and it is
Love.