The aroma I'm so used to
The aroma of you, my sweet little cup of coffee. It makes me go. Not to mention, makes me p**p. Is that so gross, I wonder.
My mornings with you is such a sweet tasty moment. I will savor you while I can. Tomorrow or the next next day I might come to stop drinking you again. Just because sometimes you make me feel bad.
But that is just but normal.
The aroma of you. Remember how I used to smell even your armpits? That was how I was so into you.
Then you were gone and you never came again. But that is not so noble an experience. Thinking of your smell amuses me and this is it for us.
I'm good. I'm not complaining, you see.
The aroma of the past. They say don't live in the past. But what do they know? I will live for as long as I want.
It's not to get pitiful but I just can't throw it out into the forest of despair. True I understand what they mean not to live in the past. But sometimes, in some people, it's the only fragment in their lives that could make them happy.
Let it be that time heals almost everything. Let it be that. In time I will live in the present. Enjoying my life somewhere just reading books or be with someone perhaps.
The aroma of adventures. I am no adventurous person. The typical sense. But in a way I am.
I can be in some adventures with the great Tolkien author. Like that and the like and I'm so good with it.
That goes with poetry too. The adventure of expressing oneself with words. Just so aromatic I almost am wearing a perfume with it.
The aroma of these that I love and was so used to... It makes life so fragrant not with perfume but with life itself.
