A Tincture of Glass
I come undone at the scent of you,
your pheromones
retrieving my emotional context,
like pushing the red alarm button
inside a glass case--
a needless breakage
as slivers descend to earth,
tinged in the DNA of love's mechanics--
a housing running on empty.
And yet it happens with regularity.
The escapement ticks
and the scent crosses pillow
to fill my days
with the you of my longing.
a red alarm
a tincture of glass
a scent.
copyright/all rights reserved