Forgive me for neglecting my blog for what, a week? Time races by when you're having fun - can I use that excuse? Anyway, here's a little something that occupied my time - it's about my old high school sweetheart, named Mary Jane:
I came across your fragrance today, your scent, for
the first time in years, and I thought of your pale
skin, your breasts, lips, the yielding of your body.
I always assumed it was lotion you wore, as if the fragrance
and the enchantment were unintentional, not a purposefully
and seductively placed essence, but just your scent,
carried so appropriately upon the spring breeze.
Why don’t I smell it more often? I wish I could. I don’t
even know where it came from this time - some woman
on the street, or wafting hauntingly from a vendor’s
cache of perfumes, or through the doorway of Macy’s?
The memories struck me like a dull arrow straight
into the heart - I turned but you weren’t there, nor did
your scent last for more than a few precious seconds.
It was there and then it was gone, just like you.
I’ve obviously never gotten over you - you continue
to linger in that special niche in my memories, waiting
for the chance to leap sweetly back into my conscious.