INCENSE
unlit
yet your incense
burns
upon my nose
hungry
for the taste
of pine
being held
by a longing
to swallow
its cone
to feed the sight
that this eyes
were unable to hold
-pambie, 7/18/03
INCENSE 2
incense lit
smokes tendril
into mid-air nest
of woven pine needles
of translucent dreams
in a hazy afternoon
and its scent wafts
past me
that i follow its traces
as it goes back
from where it came
past highways
that knew roses trails
and mountains
that stood for ages
beyond the silhouettes
disclosed not by early fogs
only upon a memory
of wrapped smokes
of the incense burning
and the touch
of its pine scent
sheeting my nose
can lead me back
to your doorstep
and i lit the next
for me to enter
your door
-pambie, 7/18/03
INCENSE 3
what shatters me is:
nothing in this scent
of pine needles
can intrude your sanctuary
for how can smoke sulk back
to a less dense air
that covers your space?
how can this fragrance
unwrap the quietness of you
that scorches distance?
and how can another
incense burn
without losing its scent?
no amount of this burning
can reach you,
no aroma can
for its familiarity
numbed you
the ashes fall in soft laces
giving its last sweet smell
that is my soul
but you never opened your door
you never let me in
your opaque seclusion
-pambie, 7/18/03
INCENSE 4
the pack, empty
incense gone
just the aftermath
of its heavy weeping:
ashes covers
my calloused hands
and smokes
curtaining a translucent
memory
shelved.
soon to fade
with the last trembling scent
rising to my nostrils
that wants to deny
its honeyed suffocation
my eyes closed
to savor the taste
of the last tears
of this pungent burning
as the air blew its last
the smokes clear
yet the fragrance
never left
this i know: it never will
for to me:
i smell the fresh memory
of the pine cones
so close that
the memory became real
the air thicks
with the sweetness
of rose petals
reckoning me
to open my eyes
and when i did,
i realized
that you brought back
the pine scent
right on my doorstep
-pambie 7/18/03
Friday, July 18, 2003
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