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by Stephanie Alfaia

Seu cheiro é intoxicante
I told him as we kissed
Is that a good thing? 
He asked
Fuck yes,
I wanted to say but 
replaced it with another kiss
inhaling the restrain – intrigue
that rolled off his tongue
suor, sweat
chuva, rain

He left that smell behind
tucked in
tangled in between my legs
grasping for tomorrow
The heart and the mind 
are terrible storytellers
and vision describes him in shades of blue
then gray, limbo gray, purgatory
it looks like what is this?
and sound fills the soul with
late, loud and comfortable
despite being completely out of place
in a sea of faceless mini skirts
but nothing is felt like scent
curling up into the third eye
like a delicious perfume

You smell like
freshly ground coffee;
milk chocolate frosting on carrot cake;
sticky, sandy seawater on dried hair;
a doe swimming across the river brim;
crackling flames in a fire pit;
playing in raked leaves mid fall;
wet woods on bare feet under a full moon;
Conceal your fear
I whisper into the dark
fear has a smell, the way love does
it smells like my fingernails in your scalp

Today, your perfume is
flakes of dry clay crumbling out from
in between two bricks – the walls we build,
to keep each other apart; safe

‘Safe’ reeks like the sun, protected on a cloudy day

Closed lap
sitting here thinking
what scents go best
with wild emotions

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