Tonight, I raised my hand to my face
to brush away an untamed curl of hair,
and when it slid past my nose, it smelled
suddenly of you. Not your cologne, or
the soap you use, not shampoo or aftershave.
That skinsmell I find tucked into your
neckplace//
I held very still and closed
my eyes, trying to keep whatever particles
of you I managed to steal, until even my
inhale meant losing you. So then I didn’t
breathe at all, just held my hand against my
cheek, and for a moment, felt that it was you //

_

your scent lingers just like you
>leaving
>never coming