Lost Smells

I

I floated about her
with my fingers unveiling her back
as she sprawled bare in my bed,
beautiful and asleep.

I felt it, the skin
as it painted my tips,
but there was no trace of her smell
that I so longed for.

I've lost the memory of that smell;
It hasn't been long but I've lost it.

II

But the smell, that which I sniffed
long and deep, with my nose
running along her bare back,
to bottle up the smell for all

the time to come,
to push it to the inescapable depths
of my memory, where it was to be chained
and celebrated, is now lost.

I may have put it so deep,
I can't access it anymore.

It was Lilles as a kid;
now, her.