I open the door.
     The sweet fall air comes inside.
          The stink goes outside.

Antique
paper
& ink
& glue,
a fragrance
I drink
in through
my nose,
fragrant
like a dead rose.
I fan my face,
& fall into
an antique book aroma coma.

Suckles at first were curst
     To be the homes of flies,
And smell'd like open tombs
     With putrefying eyes.

But Christ, who saves the worst
    (If so He wills) from death,
Did mercy give the blooms
     By giving them His breath.

You've left me here
In pools of honey and vanilla
Dreaming of London fog
Holding onto chamomile evenings
With every last breath
Orange pekoe on my tongue
Thoughts of you like jasmine flowers
Warm water and green tea
Something hibiscus and peach
Floating like little worlds
Surrounding me as I drown
In this romanticized life
Watching you swirl your spoon
In everything
We said
Was not our cup of tea

The sea brings you to me
To the aroma I smell
Fresh air in there
The sun sets its light to you
And I get that reflection
It is so beautiful
When your eyes and mine staring each other
The seagull flies between ours
The sea brings you to me
And I sail until the wind blows my love to you

You were long gone
before I could knew
and yet
I am still talking
to Aroma of You...