It begins
Its blowing in from electric wind.
The smell.
Your  fingers , they taste.
The wind,It remembers.
Wrapped  in familiar by it .
Tucked  away the memories explode.
My heart , its exposed again.
It takes precious healed moments
time lifted on scented memories
blood rushing waves of stone
It surrounds me.
Its familiar.
Its  you ...Always, it is you.