neck

i told him i missed his neck,
he thought i said lips.
i can never have enough of those,
but i discovered his neck this january.

it was, so smooth
and so very inviting.
i could rub my nose against it
and inhale its scent

(i can’t give him eskimo kisses;
his nose lies close to his face.)

i’m surprised at how much time i spent there,
curled up against him
with my face as close to his neck
as i could comfortably get it.

i sniffed him a lot,
another abnormality.
i felt my eyes wanting to look at him
to see if he was looking at me strangely.
i was behaving like a dog –
for some reason
my nose was always on him.

i loved all his colognes;
they were magnificent on him,
but i missed his naked smell
of iron, metal, steal –
whatever it was.
that smell was so strong
it made me think it was inside him,
that he was made of metal
and therefore just as strong.

i couldn’t smell him before i left.
i couldn’t smell anything.
stronger than my sense of smell
was the force of my tears
that suddenly rose up
in protest and threatened
to flood montego bay.

i told him i was leaving.
i was not happy with myself.
that was not the way i had wanted to say goodbye.

i went through security
and didn’t look back.

safe in bed and a sea apart,
two weeks later,
i told him i missed his neck.

via Daily Prompt: Scent

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s