out somewhere
and take my photo in it,
this last gift
this last time she's left me...
otherwise
I might have kept it pristine
with only her scent on it,
as I'd insisted she wear it around
before mailing it to me.
But now this hot summer day in Texas
has raised both our scents on the shirt,
mixed, as it should be:
sweet Boston honey
kissed by mesquite smoke.
Together we waft of home,
all hearth and passion,
strong, willful...semi-tragic, but intense.
While her fragrance alone had soothed
and aroused me,
our merged musk breathes power
and makes my blood surge...
because I know
not only how we smell together,
but how we feel and look and taste together,
how the eyes recognized
what the lips confirmed...
that We were real
and attracted,
connected
and complementary
all the way down to the smell.