It starts small, a trace, a wisp,
hovering near like a subtle whisper,
the cologne of your kindness leaks out.
Ambition brims sharp, citrusy, an orange burst,
while worry fogs the air, mossy and damp.
On rainy afternoons, you carry vanilla,
a warmth, a reassurance against gray skies.
In the burn of summer heat, musk thickens,
confidence climbing, bold as cedar’s bark.
Others lean in closer, nostrils open wide,
taking in your invisible signature—a map
of yesterday’s heartbreak, today's laughter,
a crush of lilac, then steel, and sea salt.
Every handshake seals this quiet revelation.
Every hug releases your unwritten autobiography.
Here, your scent, an unspoken introduction,
trails behind you like a truth you cannot hide.
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Author:
gray0328 (
Offline) - Published: February 25th, 2025 10:35
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 19
- Users favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy, whats write for me
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Comments2
A sense too little used in life. Used in poetry in regard to flowers but little else. Very nice Gray
Thanks Soren I am a cologne addict I probably have 50 different ones and my daily choice is made based on how I'm feeling in the morning
Excellent Gray.
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