I thought of my desolate air fresheners, of all shapes, sizes and scents.

pick the little one shaped and scented like a rose.
the sweet, cloying smell that irks your sensitive nose.
nobody knows how it happened, but
your breakfast goes (out).

pick the green tree, the one that smells like pine.
maybe you should wash it down with some wine.
the sharp scent reminds you of grandma's house, and suddenly you taste brine on your face.

maybe you should take the one shaped like a lemon, with a whiff of zing.
suddenly I remember how you didn't even blink
with your acidic words when you said you were leaving.

nothing seems to be able to mask the sad, musty smell of loneliness;
but maybe with a gentle caress.....?