When I remember
pressing my face against your neck
and tucking it under your hair
and kissing your ear,
it's the smell that overwhelms me.

In memory, it's more like a color.
A brand new color.
A more beautiful color.
In delicate hues it comes and goes as I breathe.
I breathe deeply to try to capture it.

But I can't steal the rawest of your beauty.
Although I may, for a moment, remember the joy it gave me.