The Drive-By (#12)

There was no warning

Just a waft unleashed on the unsuspecting
Without pity
Without care

I did not see him
He flew by so fast
His scent snapped my neck
And my balance wavered

Hands on my thighs, eyes closed
Momentarily overcome by
woody liqueur, cigar and clary sage
Perhaps the musk of wild cat or jasmin rouge
An explosion of color behind paralyzed lids

Smoky yet sweet
Patchouli and amber
Oh, Indian sandalwood!
Oh, Tahitian vanilla!

I am sailing for the West Indies, or maybe
The Mediterranean, under a wicked spell
I am obsessed, intensely euphoric
Bulgari? Acqua di Gio?
Pour Homme
Mon Dieu

The catalyst of my undoing
Air redolent with spicy clove
I am on my knees
Felled by a faceless

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