Straight shot love

Universe of your scentand your traceon the collar of your shirtand in your undershirt You stand under the spotlightplaying tunes from your heart;an embodimentof all things massive, masculine, and sensitivejust waiting for the right timeto give it all I watch youbut please take meI want some of thatanything little, at all The drip of your

Wallflower

Molecules work against you, or for you, to present themselves in ways that allows the decoding of their atomic structurein the form of realities that exist before your eyesduring a smooth ride in bicycle against autumn airand collide with your thoughtsto take you back to being a desperate wallflower in your middle school dancewondering who’s

Chicken-broth like foreign scent and blinds

The rare subtle scent of something like mild diluted chicken-broth or a faraway whiff of miso soup does this to me. It took me years and years to figure out what this scent really could be, and up to today, I’m ninety-five percent sure that it’s related to meat; and most likely chicken. This rare,

Burning wood

Quiet nights And the midnight stray dogs that bark The scent of burning wood Clay pots and runny rice On a stove made of fine earth I’m wearing my favorite cotton dress And peeking out the open window railings While the cool breeze touches my face Unlocking my heart There’s the lingering scent from grandma’s

In her palace

She’s in her palace; her head resting on its beautiful marbled floor. She sighs at the way it cools her cheek on such a hot summer’s day. Breeze comes through the large windows and balconies that surround this grand architecture. They tease her wavy hair strands, which in turn tease her face. She’s listless and

Sinking scent

Your hands Under my hands Your hands on my stomach, waist Your hands, tracing my skin Composing your name Your nose near my neck Sinking, in the scent of an ache

This makes me happy

The smell of maple leaf

Somewhere on a horizon

It’s somewhere in between the orange and the blue hues of a sunset, somewhere in the horizon where the sky meets the ocean I don’t even recall who you are nor which one but your voice holds me, unclothes me, caresses, kisses and spins me, as we dance in the shower of raining orange flowers