Sunday, October 23, 2011

Her Scent Makes Me Nervous

How do you cope with what can be inhaled like coke?
Her essence, a perfume untouched by mediocrity,
assailing every part of me. It screams,

“Hands up, this is a robbery!”
Guns of an amorous intensity intently drawn,
point blank like lovers inches away from a kiss.

I’m not her only victim, her only thrall
in this bank vault, this morgue for money,
she makes me worry that love is as petty as cash.

I exhale and with the dearth of air,
she leaves me for a second
and I elude the spit of hot chrome.

But this scene is only in my mind,
brief and mutably wavering,
it’s always different.

Yet always dire, perhaps the next whiff
will encourage a stampede
of the most exquisite beasts.

I stop my intake of breath for a second,
as an attempt not to travel back
to such dangerous surroundings.

Shutting the door, I sigh deeply.
Leaving the barrier between us,
free of the floral spice that suffocates me some.

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