black coffee in the morning.
the smell of rain,
of mud, of wetness.
the smell of the walls
of the cave, of the stone,
of the moss…
the smell of sex, of arousal,
of a woman’s neck.
the smell of pine needles,
of an old house,
of fresh turned earth…
the smell of old books,
of old dogs, of shadows
without form…
i’ve even become accustomed
to the smell of death!

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