‘That Scent’ – a poem

‘That scent’that_scent_image

Why do I smell you?

It’s been months since I’ve seen you.
Longer since I touched you.

It’s your cologne, clinging
To my clothes, wafting through the air.

Subtly rich, and sweet; lingering,
Like pipe tobacco.

Why do I smell you?

How long has it been since I kissed you?
I don’t even miss you, really.

Except, why do I smell you?

There’s a hint of sweat, all mixed in.
Acrid. Nostalgic.

Reminds me of sex with you.

That scent! It’s hugging my sleeves
Sitting in the car next to me.

Brushing my hair.

Why do I smell you?
I don’t even fucking like you.


This poem isn’t about anyone real.  I was driving in my car, and caught a whiff of the cologne my friend was wearing when he’d been riding with me the day before. That made me think about what a powerful emotional trigger a smell can be.

This poem ends the way it does because I didn’t want a classic “I miss you” poem, so I cut the bastard off at the knees.

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