Your fragrance lingers in the air,
It’s on my pillow and in my hair,
I smell you now as I smelt you then,
And in your scent, you’re here again.
I lie atop an unmade bed,
Scented echoes, words you said,
Pledges made in sated languor,
Words of lust and words of candour.
Moonlit shadows, dancing lights,
Stolen moments, borrowed nights.
Tattooed chains around my heart,
Those ink stained links now torn apart,
All that’s left are fractured dreams,
Splintered hopes and silent screams.
But while your fragrance is in the air,
I know you’re there, some place, somewhere.