I know that you are away but each time I come here I sense your presence. It's as if I know you are here, yet I know you are not. I find myself coming here to find you awaiting me, a message, your thoughts, your insights, your warmth, your words. It's funny how the scent of a woman can make you miss her so.
Like I always do I rushed home to see you then remembered you are away, yet I stop, I looked around because I could feel you were still there. As I pause to catch my breath, I inhaled and smile for your fragrance fills the air.
The scent of a woman is more powerful than her touch drawing you into her so majestic and ever looming clutch. A scent so intoxicating it leaves you staggering about like a drunken sailor yearning her return, desiring her company. The scent of a woman makes you long for her even more.
I walked around the room as visions of you danced before me; I could even hear your voice, see your beautiful eyes, feel you still near. Again I stopped, I looked around, yet I knew you were not here, but yes you were, even though it was only an apparition.
I trailed your aroma until I found myself traveling in circles. Going round and round reaching, grasping embracing the traces of you that hung in the air; beckoning me to you and hinting your aftertaste. The scent of a woman so keen it masks my loneliness and the silence it left in my heart.
The scent of a woman my desires erupting with unfilled confusion, catapulting my devotion for you leaving me branded with the thought of you as I earmark this moment that endorse that the scent of a woman, my woman has cast me before you for eternity.
This was written by a friend. Thanks Billy!
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