Scent

It lingered,

Pervading the pores of my

furniture,and painting my hair

lilac..

A little implausible notion

Stirred In my forebrain..

It comes from within,

But NOT without..

I release the shackles of my tongue

and taste the virgin flavour

Of wanton dreams,

that the perfume carried on its

Wingless flight..

And sank into a gentle oblivion

Of thoughts foretold but never

acknowledged..

I'd know it now in any gathering,

Of smells and sights and sounds,

It'll strike my senses and make me

aware of how insignificant my material

Lies..

But I'll know they can't take it from me

Not in a thousand years,

I'll be lain in slumber,

But I'll always have,

That lingering essence in every smile..