If I Smell Like An Aprodisiac

i could be an aroma
of the strong aged
wine in your mind
the one that tickles
the nerves of your
nose
wanting to kiss
joy and
perhaps even
have a dance
in the flame with
lust

it is all in the mind
and for as long as you erase
everything
that you think you know about
this person
that guy that lover
that you have not even
touched
they you will always get me
wrong
an image, a mirage,
a rainbow, a mist
a bug,
a soft white curtain
always shaping the breaths
of your wind

listen to your heart
it may speak about someone else
the one you have not met
not judged
not framed
the one that looks like a window
looking out to sea
a nameless horizon
a drift the drip
without the strips and
the stripes

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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