Angel Out of Touch

A smell was a trigger

out of a free shampoo sample,

tangled all in my head. the smell

engulfing me in steam, I think I

hallucinated her, saw her face

glowing in the mirror, glowing 

doing her nightly skincare routine.

How could I forget it? The decadent 

Decleor French elegance in golden

bottles made of matte glass. 

And one in particular – 

Oile de angel,

the one she’d share every night,

a single drop on my teeny nose,

a scent I had forgotten.

An angel out of touch.

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