| your smell is on me. you are in my mind as though you have always been and might never be. I shiver in imagining you. I smell you again. (as I touch my lips or my face.) I smell you. a hollowness opens below my gravity's center. this time there is no confusion, only wonder. inside a shell of insular weariness that encompasses both time and madness, and then it passes. (desire is complex, love is simple). | I am thinking of you again |