My Favorite Scent

“What’s your favorite scent?”    
I wondered about her motive  
What answer was she looking for?    
Did she hope that I would say it was her?    
Or at least something that she liked too    
So we would have that in common?    
The truth is,    
I don’t think I have a favorite scent    
So I said, “Well, it’s not my favorite scent,    
But you know when you’re driving    
Down a country road at night    
And a smell suddenly fills the car    
And you know that someone    
Has run over a skunk    
Rupturing its gland, you know,    
Bursting its ‘stink sack’?    
I like that smell, but I don’t,    
It’s pungent and smells    
Like coffee grounds and lemons    
A bromide and brown sugar gone wrong    
I don’t like it, but I do"  
It’s like being married    
If you hate it too long    
And then finally decide    
That you kind of really loved it after all    
You’ve moved on further down the road  
And it has disappeared    
Leaving you on a deserted highway    
Driving all alone in the dark    
With only the memory    
Of what you’ve just left behind.