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The Scent

November 2015

The scent, is all that is left of what the relationship once was. The fragrance of all that is left of how it used to be. The prosaic might call it pheromones, but I prefer to call it the essence of a time, and those overwhelming feelings that once were.


The Scent

It is remembered as the perfume

On a white handkerchief trimmed with lace…

The Angel said;

‘This is the scent – the fragmented fragrance

of what once was…

the remnant…of earthly desires.’

And as he spoke the words evaporated in that mist

and the fragment, like a slice of memory


dissolved like his words…

Some famous writer expressed it, somehow…

I thought it was Somerset Maugham, but on waking

I know that it was not…

The memory remains

as an elusive fragrance

from the gardens of experience.



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