Phantosmia

She glided in ethereal
A mixture of Memory
(You look like) Wheat
(You sound like) Music
(You smell like) Rose

But Memory never smelled like Rose
Rose smelled like something earlier
Soap amongst steel
Milk and honey in the desert
Sackcloth and ashes
A head shorn of sorrow
Rose smelled like something new
As surely as it smelled like something old

(Your scent is alive)
(You are no ghost)
(You were never never there)

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: