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What is the Scent of a Poem?

 

You close your eyes, quietly seated

facing the open window.

 

A breeze carries earthy vapor.

You whiff a musky draft

 

until wind shifts—pungent floral,

wafts into your passages. It disperses and

 

a warm gust carries rancid fumes,

bellows in the nasal cavity,

and diffuses quickly.

 

The room smells stuffy

 

until the AC blows

 

citrus aromas into tart salivation

 

because, each poem breathes a scent,

 

which swiftly exhales stale aromas or

 

you savor its mystical fragrance

 

as you close the poem’s door.

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