There’s a smell, in fact an aroma, that intoxicates me
A human scent, of a BO-laced meat vessel, ripe
But delightful in its pungent revelry,
Sometimes 6 days unshowered, sometimes after a single session
Of activity and dynamic motion, but unforgettable
The sour sharpness reminding me I’m still alive
That I’m still here, and so are you, visceral
In our humanity, connecting with something deeper
Like the smell of flesh to fire in a bar-bee-queue, or smoke,
An archaic comfort in the delight of primal humanity
Of a time when we relied on our noses more,
And socially constructed chaos less, natural
Sometimes I want to feel this in my nostrils when beside you,
Saturating olfactory faculties with nature and breath
Embracing you with my nostrils as with my arms
Eyes closed knowing I’m home