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The Scent Of My Mother
I admit I have this fetish, not harmful.
Nor is it very strong so I go nuts with the obsession.
It is the fragrance of things, any and all.

I can guarantee you I wouldnít kill you
Wearing offensive scents, strong and heady and stale.
You would be left with an enigmatic haunting.

Let me not dwell on my fondness for odor.
The incense that haunts me and clings to my heart,
Ambushing many memories of my past.

A fragrance not defined, and so sublime,
I get goosebumps and my heart beats a bit faster,
I am at sea; I canít give my pain a reason!

Once I get the whiff, it gives me company all day;
A nostalgia, a force to go back and feel the smell again!
What is it that is so deeply embedded in me?

How I got it, it is my mother all those times!
Her natural scent, no preservatives added but only love.
A memory, as soft as an angelís kiss.

I wonít sell my motherís scent for any earthly reason!

By Suvasini

© 2019 Suvasini (All rights reserved)


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