The intersection of air and aroma,
together brings sustenance and nostalgia.
That air, which once helped you breathe, now clogs your throat,
like a seafarer wading without a boat.
Epochs passing, as a lost love’s scent batters
the mind’s shore, once more sentient life scatters.
Here and now is lost, forgotten touches felt,
as waves of her sweet laugh dull any din dealt.
Like déjà vu she’s there then gone, now forlorn--
roused from the dream, which floats away before long.