Your Scent

Your scent—
It was like something sent from a place I’d never been,
A place far beyond the edge of my senses,
But somehow, when I caught it,
It brought me closer to heaven.

The kind of scent that makes me drift,
Float without gravity, pulled in directions I don’t even know.
It lingers, like a whisper that finds its way into my skin,
Soft, like the petals of roses,
Dew still resting in their folds,
The way they bloom open and secret all at once.

You carry the scent of a thousand roses,
Not just red, but white, pink, yellow,
Each one with its own story,
Its own quiet note.
And I drift—
Not just into you, but into the world your fragrance paints.

It’s not just flowers, though.
No, it’s deeper.
You are the scent of ylang-ylang,
Something I can’t place at first but crave once I know it.
That exotic, distant touch that makes me wonder,
What kind of dream sent you to me?

And then, there’s jasmine—
That delicate bloom,
Its sweet perfume following you wherever you go,
Soft, but unforgettable,
Like the night air that holds you, keeps you.
It’s the kind of scent that doesn’t leave,
Even when you’re not around.

There’s lavender, too, in the way you carry yourself.
Calm, soothing—
The kind of scent that makes everything still.
Like fields of lavender under a fading sun,
You bring peace just by being there,
Just by breathing.

Then there’s vanilla—
That warmth, that sweetness,
Not too much, but just enough to make me remember,
To hold on a little longer.
It’s like the scent of childhood in a way,
Familiar, comforting, like home.
You are the vanilla in my life,
The sweetness that lingers long after everything else fades.

But you’re not all softness.
There’s cinnamon, too.
A little spice in the air when you walk by,
Something that wakes me up,
Something that keeps me guessing.
Like the way cinnamon sticks curl,
Your scent wraps itself around my senses,
Sharp but smooth,
Fire but warmth.

And when it rains,
I swear, the earth smells like you.
The air is different—
Clean, fresh, new.
Like the ground sighs after the storm has passed,
And all that’s left is you.
It’s the scent of the world being reborn,
And I drift with it,
Into something timeless.

Your scent is the smell of the air after it rains,
The ground beneath my feet,
Wet and alive.
I breathe it in,
And in that moment, I’m not just here,
I’m everywhere you are.

You smell like fruit, too.
Like the ripeness of mangoes,
Their sweet juice dripping,
The way they fill the air when you crack them open.
There’s something about you—
Like peaches on a warm day,
Their fuzz against the skin,
Their sweetness waiting to be tasted.
I can’t help but think of nectarines,
That slight tang, that hidden burst of flavor,
And how your scent catches me off guard every time.

There’s the crispness of apples,
The juiciness of pears.
And sometimes, you’re like a bowl of berries,
Each one different,
But together, creating something impossible to resist.
I taste strawberries in the way you move,
A slow, unfolding sweetness,
And blackberries in the depth of your touch.

Then, there’s the way you remind me of home—
Sweet potato pie cooling on the windowsill,
Its spices filling the room,
The crust golden and perfect.
You are that sweetness,
The warmth that makes everything feel just right.
And yams, slow-roasted,
The earthiness of them,
Their deep, rich flavor.
It’s all there, in the scent you carry,
Like a secret recipe I can’t quite figure out.

You’re like flowers I’ve never seen,
Ones that bloom only once in a lifetime,
But when they do, their scent fills the entire world.
You are the garden after the rain,
The blooms opening up to the sky,
Their colors bursting,
Their fragrance alive.

Your scent is the promise of spring,
The earth coming back to life,
And in it, I find myself again.

You are roses,
You are jasmine,
You are lavender,
You are vanilla,
You are cinnamon,
You are the rain,
You are the earth,
You are the fruit,
You are home.

Your scent is more than perfume,
More than essential oils or flowers.
It’s a memory that hasn’t happened yet,
A dream I haven’t lived.
It’s the air after the storm,
The ground after the rain,
The sweetness of life itself.

And I drift—
In your scent, in the space you create,
In the world you bring with you wherever you go.

Your scent stays with me,
Even when you’re not there.
It’s in the air I breathe,
In the ground I walk on,
In the rain that falls,
In the flowers that bloom.
It’s everywhere,
And in it, I find you,
Again and again.