The Scent of a Woman
The hint of vanilla graces my pillow like a sigh in the breeze.
Memories flood my mind in an inondation of emotion.
I miss you already, as I hear your car leave, speeding you off to work.
We haven't talked much lately, but the thought doesn't pause to ask why.
I am too busy basking in groggy bliss to question things of late.
Too late,
I now realise my mistake,
weeks later.
Something has gone amiss, between the talk and the kiss.
And now the damage is irreparable
as we sit in off-hand casual conversation, at our meeting place where harmful ears can hear.
No exchange of intimate thoughts here, in plain view of the judging world.
You've left me and... I still haven't absorbed the full repercussions
So we chat over coffee,
hazelnut vanilla,
just friends.
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