scent ~ or crush # 5 ~

scent ~ or crush # 5 ~

  Ah, she left a bit of clothes
soft, warm, her scent, longing grows
I hold them to my cheek and sigh,
wondering if she knows.

  Her scent, gives me vision to see
only her love can set me free
I hold them to my cheek and die
Knowing we can never be.

This poem was written by me long ago.
It is from a series of poems that I wrote called “The Longest Crush.”
Almost 200 poems exist in the series.

Posted September 5, 2011 by Inferno in Bardic Reflection

Tagged with ,