SENSE OF SMELL

When we walk and I have lost my sense of smell you open your nostrils like big knowing. Having been told, seeing as our bends have been corrected. I am surprised when our mouths form stems farther from the truth. I place my hand on yours and we pile ourselves atop one another being against and together. Protest nothing but virtual insanity and secrecy. We have been uprooted soil clinging by hairs until I am green and spilling.

Lily Sickles 47