I’m fed up with this fearfulness.
Company in all its forms technological
is a poor substitute
for the scent of presence.
Recalling the comfort of ageless hugs,
I inhale the rush of a breath exhaled with joy,
and absently, mindfully, mindlessly,
your perfume, lingering,
evokes memory’s soft sigh.
longs to slap the face
of fear’s foul stench,
successfully keeping us apart.
Its un-socially distanced trepidation
clawing for my compliance, my capitulation,
my descent into panic, self-doubt, reliance
on others to save me, subdue me,
seduce me with their pervasive scent of alarm.
But there is a place of courage,
un-trampled by this odium.
Sane scented memories of embrace,
striving to heal a world gone mad.
Photography by: Diane Picchiottino