with apologies to Hal David
Now that I have found you
tonight I will sleep in your sweatshirt
salvaged from the dirty clothes hamper.
I will clutch your pillow close to me,
lie on your side of the bed because
it’s the smell of love I require.
The look of love is in your eyes
but I can’t see you now
when you’re lulled to sleep
by the salty fragrance of the Pacific
and I am here at home snuffling our
sheets for the sweetness of your skin.
I can hardly wait to hold you
our two lives entwined, but look
of love trusts sight for remembrance—
vision, that most deceptive of our senses.
Even blindfolded, I would know you
if I could inhale your body’s bouquet.
A look that time can’t erase
relies on the portraitist’s skill—
images fade, time alters the original
yet it is known that a single aroma
unlocks memories long forgotten
so I cling to your rainy scent
So many nights like this