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Erwinism Sep 27
Nakedly bottled.
Capturing bursting seasons
here and now.

Life, delicate in its notes,  
the top notes,
lithe as youth,
citrus and bloom,  
ever briefly,
recondite pleasure,
a suppliance of time
a rush that fades away.  

Heart notes,
the flesh of our days, unfold—  
warm spices, florals, deeper and continues to exude as winter winds careless breath.

In the middle years, the scent sits and blares and mellows—a steady pulse of sandalwood and musk.  

Sultry as the scent may have lingered,
flirtatious colors in the breeze’s hair
the base notes come,
the earthier tones,  
amber and resin,
heavier on the air,  
decays a final wisp
until faint on the skin.

A memory is born.
Tadmar Jelly May 2018
life's but a walking shadow
a violet in the youth of primy nature
the perfume and suppliance of a minute
    no more
a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard
    no more
forward, not permanent, sweet not lasting
it is a tale told by an idiot full of sound and fury, signifying nothing
All words borrowed from Shakespeare

— The End —