It was a gorgeous aged smell, like air
from another time that had been trapped for decades, for so long it had
begun to breathe and refresh itself differently than the other air elsewhere,
it stayed calm while a billion cars and Sr. Wardens blurred by.
It was dark, speckled-special
red like the dusty faded vermillion carpet that drew lines
up to the altar and back to the doors and split
us down the middle, even before the year we split
I’ve written many a time of this same smell. I never once
thought someday I might just have these striped, dry-faced pages off of which to inhale it
or that I’d ever be away long enough to forget just how it smells.