Your presence like a scent


You whisper to me across the veil

Your simmering words of loss

Seep into my mind

I seek an equilibrium I cannot find


The memories furnish forgotten rooms

Your presence like a scent

So familiar yet unidentifiable

So difficult to access those rooms

I have long ago lost the key


Pale colours guide me to them

I feel the wood panels against the wall

Breathe the light filtering through the long curtains

In the long hallway back to you


Yet you all seem long gone

I am wandering through lost memories

Your presence only fleeting

Like a scent


It seems I’m sifting through the glass

Of what was broken long ago

My hands are cut

As I try to repair


I search for you in forgotten memories

But how do I tell the difference between

Sifting sand and the wind?



One Comment Add yours

  1. elainajhunt says:

    I especially love how you relate scent to memory here. I find myself all the time identifying a scent currently, and being thrown into the past with the aroma. But I like how you almost reverse that here. Someone, themselves, actually being the scent that you can’t quite follow, being lost in the memory. Just beautiful!


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