The Scent Of My Mother

I admit I have this fetish, not harmful.

Nor is it so strong so I go nuts with the obsession

It is the scent I can’t smell but can only feel.

I can guarantee you I wouldn’t kill you

Wearing offensive attar, strong and heady and stale.

You just have to make do with an enigma!

Let me not dwell on my fondness for odor.

The incense that haunts me and clings to my heart,

Ambushing many memories of my past.

A fragrance not defined, and so sublime,

I get goosebumps and my heart beats a bit faster,

I am at sea; I can’t give my pain a reason!

Once I get the whiff, it gives me company all day;

A nostalgia, a force to go back and feel the smell again!

What is it that is so deeply embedded in me?

How I got it, whence I got it, so delicately strong,

Her natural scent, no preservatives added but only love?

A memory, as soft as an angel’s kiss.

I won’t sell my mother’s scent for any earthly reason.