The Smell of Her Perfume

He woke up in jail 

to the smell of her perfume

He held his head with trembling hands 

pain screaming like a siren in his ears

Cold sweat danced on his forehead

as his stomach mounted the

occasional escape attempt

All this consumed him until he realized 

the private cloud of sweet scent

that calmed his body and mind was

the smell of her perfume 

He tried to piece together what happened

but all he had were scattered images

a bad ending

and the one thing that let him 

escape back into sleep was 

the smell of her perfume

He chased her image 

as it floated between dreams

while a voice deep inside screamed 

“she was here, can't you smell that?"

but he could summon no vision

to satisfy a mind unconvinced

she had left him with anything more 

than the smell of her perfume

Four cold walls

one metal door

one surveillance camera

the glare of one humming fluorescent light

three snoring drunks

no shoelaces, no eye contact

no dignity, no pride

the only thing not surrendered

into a plastic bag of possessions was

the smell of her perfume

He woke up in jail

at the end of one story

and the start of a new one 

and staggered bleary eyed into the hot morning

a long way from home

$7.00 in his wallet

wearing last nights clothes

and the smell of her perfume

Ken Owen   Van Niddy Press   June 2015