A familiar scent

This pale and washed out bed-sheet

Worn out from when you were sickly.

I’ve lived long enough to associate the two

but not very long as this grief feels new.

I beg of you to take this fragrance with you,

to have left these clothes untouched

and the air as it was.

Or for these articles to be less intrusive,

these letters and photographs barely lucid.

Or for your handwriting to have been less legible,

or for your last days to have not been as medical.

Or for me, myself

to forget what you smelled like

and to not regret every distant night.

These scents are reminiscent

and they’re teaching me a lesson.

I was taught that the present soon becomes the past

but this is a present that’s outright determined to last




2 thoughts on “A familiar scent

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