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Bemused, I hear the notes of your fragrance.
The silk air suffuses bouquets of your fragrance.
I close my eyes and see your face unveiled,
My Monarch unloosed—Fluttering Fragrance.
A violet sky helps dress the west for night.
The moon stops at our feet for your fragrance.
Our caravan—Saffron. We—two Laughing Doves.
Stars dream they’re your crown jewels—Eden Fragrance.
The heaven’s cirrus-breath makes turgid your lips.
Mine thrill in the mad mist of your fragrance.
Your voice, as lovely as the Lord’s to Lazarus,
made Rumi dance hip-hop, charmed by your fragrance.
I reach to embrace your blue lotus waist
As Icarus I fall, drunk with your fragrance.
My hand still grasping your Myrtle branch as I spin,
Thomas seized in your Nile. My treacherous Love,
Rapture me again with your fragrance

 

 

Thomas Praino is a doctor by vocation, a veterinarian by profession, and a lover of language. His short drama “Memorandum For Theater: Northern Italy, 25 July 1944,”has been accepted for publication to War, Literature and the Arts. Praino’s short story, “Carmen’s Blood Song (A Siguiriya)”is self-published on Amazon’s Kindle Store.