joi, 17 noiembrie 2016

But not this guy

I sit on the bus
I close my eyes
Suddenly the man next to me has your scent.
It's late in the afternoon
The hour people are coming home
And the time of day they have that smell
That warn smell of sweat
Mixed with the flavor of their shampoo
And maybe with the washing powder they use
Some come in the scent of sweet
Some smell like my mother's laundry in the winter.
But not this guy
He smelled of summer
The smell you had the day I kissed you
And your neck was wet from the thrill
And your hair was soft
Like a baby's sort of soft
I remember how I liked to press it on my fingers
And how I thought we humans have the same scent of skin
That vanilla undertone our body secretly has
When it gets warm
The smell of home
My father told my mother she had
That he would recognize it from a thousand other women
When he would press his skin against hers.
You had the same scent of skin that night
The smell I get when I overstay with my head upon my arm
And my face keeps its warmth
You had that certain feeling
I got when I changed my spot on the pillow
When it got too warm in the morning
And the material kept its smell
A perfume without a bottle.

I remembered how you smelt that way
When you carried your bike in the sunlight
That day in the park
You stayed closer to me
Than any other day
And hugged me on the bench at night
While I was leaning on your shoulder
And when our skins pressed like sheet papers
I felt how the sun had left a mark on your body
Getting that smell again.

You used to tell me
How you'd introduce me to your dog
Watch movies together in open air
And have picnics in the forest outside the city
And wouldn't accept a no.
I remember how you showed me the park near you
My favorite park
What a beautiful day that was
Among the first daysof summer
The only ones we got
Until the hot wather came
And the sun took you away.

I think of you from time to time
And your picture fades away
There are days where I can't grab a face
Or the way your funny teeth smiled in the sun.
Except for days like these
When I close my eyes
And I can pretend a stranger on the bus
A man I've never met
Smells like home.

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