The scent of her person wasn’t aromatic like lavender,
Sweet honeysuckle, or cinnamon -
Inasmuch as it was hers
It smelt like yearning, and deprivation
Something I couldn’t place
Lingering on the tip of my tongue
A tingling sensation.
The perfume of her aura drew me in,
And it’s persistence kept me there.
Waiting, lusting - zest.
I desired to douse her in my sin.