A Fragrant Memory of Love

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memory of love

she lingers in
my mind as
a nascent memory,
a gossamer dream spun
of redolent sighs,
a faint reminiscence
which lurks in
memory’s catacombs,
draped in opaque mist
of confounding amnesia.

memory of scents

I remember not
her features, her face,
nor her silken mane
or her alabaster contours,
but just some scents
which whisper in
surreal syllables tales of
a romance long lost,
a romance we shared.

faded face

scent reminiscent of
breath of lemon blossoms,
peppered over
dewy face of spring morn,
or redolent chants
of hursinghars like
wedding vows of night
and dawn blooming
in resplendent delight.

lemon blossoms

in my mind she is
a cocktail of aromas,
a bittersweet concoction
which tingles and
tantalizes the senses,
faint whiff of coffee’s smell
mingled with snow’s freshness,
which was braided
perhaps in her breath,
and luscious scent of
molten dark chocolate,
which lingered as a nuance
on her sensuous lips.

kiss of chocolate1

and every time I try to
remember her visage,
all that is revived is aromas,
citrus fragrance of
juicy slices of mandarin,
~ sweet-sour as her mischief.
and scent of drenched earth
after monsoon’s virgin shower,
reminds me of her,
and her rippling laughter…

peeled mandarin

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