As you rose from the bed and left, I buried
my nose in the pillow, immersed myself in the scent of you.
I inhaled until my nasal cavities burned, snorting
your essence like cocaine.

You smelled like Dove soap and Degree – the deodorant I swore
was a cologne itself.

I remember your aura lingering in the air when you left
and though I would see you again the next day, I couldn’t stop
sniffing. I injected you into my everyday life, thought of you as I
washed dishes, made my bed, ate dinner. All I could think about was the enticing
waft of you.

I smelled it once again when we said goodbye in your hallway. We pulled
away after what felt like not enough time, a burn from your body being torn from mine.

As I left your apartment, I sniffed my shirt: deep undertones
of you embedded into the threads of cotton. I looked down at my keys and thought,

you are the only home I need.