Sunday, 20 March 2011


I am perfume in a small glass bottle that you keep on your bedside table and I lie here still within my glass perimeter as you sleep your hair brushing your soft cheek and I sparkle with the morning sunlight and reflect off your face as you awake and you slip off your night gown and walk to the bath room and emerge with the soft sweet water still dripping from your hair and skin and you glance into the looking-glass as you rub a white towel around yourself and then your slender hand reaches out for me and suddenly I am no longer lying still but jumping for joy and you are smiling as you open the lid and I turn upside down and suddenly I am divided and part of me is on you mixing with your natural scent and part of me is settling down once more descending to your bedside table where the bed is empty and you are slipping into your dress and then your hand is touching the door knob and you are gone.

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