In Absentia

I think for a moment
you sweep past:

a smoke of rose, a wisp of heat,
a hint of calm, a whisper
without sound but scented
with your lips, your tongue,
your breath, it eddies through
the turbulence
of my everyday.

Inhale your scent,
pretend your scent
is present to be inhaled.

Swallow the lump
rising in my throat.

This is how I get through
the moments between
our meetings.

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