you taste like a garden
bright, like basil
so your scent stains
my fingers,
and when I pluck you
you infuse my palms.
you remind me of summers
100 years ago
and still you smell like you always have
you've sat by my sink
and by my grandmother's window.
grown countless times
from clay pots filled richly.
i've muddled you,
pulsed you
blended, baked
you've filled my home
my skin,
but i can't find myself in you.
how, when you've been here with me for
Years and years and years

I should know myself by now
You've been with me all the while.