"Peek and retreat
is the term for it.
Is the term for what I do."

"Treating the world to a prime game,
a fine game of relentless peek-a-boo."

I am surrounded by the beautiful mosaic of people
Each fitting into their place
A harmonious tiled portrait of kinship
My sides do not run true
I am alone

My elusive baby
is famous in my mind
he ain't too easy to find
maybe around the bend
where sun do shine
& love is free- boundless
yet divine
you can find him
writing his lines,
biding my time
& bending the mind

Today I put on that perfume
And it hit me
With a memory forgotten;
Sunken at the bottom of the almost empty bottle.
“Mhm, wow you smell so good. What perfume is that?” You had asked.
I’d been over the moon waxing outside. You had tickled my insides.
So when I’d spritzed that on my neck and inhaled that scent and that memory…
I was glad.
Glad that the bottle was finished.
Glad that there was nothing left to remind me of that moment,
Glad that as I tossed the bottle into the trash, I had, in turn, trashed the memory.
The memory sunken at the bottom of that perfume bottle.