deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Smell of Home
Someone once told me I smelled great.
‘What do you use?’ He asked.
I paused for a moment.
I thought of the dimly lit bathroom,
The mornings while brushing my teeth.
Gagging on the intensely artificial scent of vanilla perfume my sister would coat her entire body in.
I thought of the floral sweetness that my mother carried,
Jasmine or lavender,
A hint of faintly browned sugar.
I thought of the powerful citrus my father wore,
I often thought he smelled how he looked,
Huge and powerful,
The slightest hint of warmth.
I knew my cologne smelled of moss and smoke,
Rose leather and earth,
But I didn’t smell like just that.
I smell like vanilla, flowers, bergamot, and smoke.
I smell like an amalgamation of my family.
I smell of home.
‘What do you use?’ He asked.
I paused for a moment.
I thought of the dimly lit bathroom,
The mornings while brushing my teeth.
Gagging on the intensely artificial scent of vanilla perfume my sister would coat her entire body in.
I thought of the floral sweetness that my mother carried,
Jasmine or lavender,
A hint of faintly browned sugar.
I thought of the powerful citrus my father wore,
I often thought he smelled how he looked,
Huge and powerful,
The slightest hint of warmth.
I knew my cologne smelled of moss and smoke,
Rose leather and earth,
But I didn’t smell like just that.
I smell like vanilla, flowers, bergamot, and smoke.
I smell like an amalgamation of my family.
I smell of home.
Published 31st May 2024
Author's Note
When you are a product of your environment, but in a good way?
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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