Of musk and wood and hope
you smelled, the whiff of you
took my breath away.
You stood there without a care,
And didn’t give me a second glance.
Adonis unaware of his Aphrodite.

The unkind years have failed
to drown the longing,
Sometimes, when serenity
takes over, I look
at the orange blob setting,
and hear the trees rustling,
I get a whiff of you,
of musk and wood
and hope.
As Aphrodite still waits
for her Adonis
to come back to life.

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