love is a bouquet
filled with the bloom's embrace
of scented flowers

look not beneath
scars
lest night scowl

for history
screamed
breaches unbidden

rivulets red streamed
as child song
failed

tendrils grasped
by savage gusts
discarded

to rise as scented spring
warmth
loosens coverlets

stirred
untied
waiting

She stops, asks a hug,
Our tender hug was pictured,
A scented moment.