Cinnamon | Poetry Out West

The scent of a woman

made from floral Oriental arrangements

imbued sandlewood, tall poppies and heady ambient aura’s

is enough to make me linger – longer than wiser men swoon

tripping over their good fortune, as I sway through the market overflowing with trinkets

glittery things; replacing driftwood, pinecones, seeds and pods

cinnamon sticks and stones

eau de parfum of musk, nascent wafts of earth and wild rain
stay hidden from your touch, designed to draw you in
and leave you wanting

Poetry Out West