sprawled out.
bare feet on the walls.
with her.
with out her.
writing. praying. drawing.
there.
on the floor.
on the balcony.
she took a walk.
sat overlooking it all.
didn't need to speak.
we discovered.
i almost feel like i'm laying there.
there in the cloud of that ambiance.
more and more
i remember this feeling,
it was the feeling of the time and place.
like a whiff of an empty perfume bottle.
i can still smell it but there's nothing left.
as soon as i smell it
i think maybe, just maybe theres a little bit more
i turn it over gently and pray for a drop.
nothing.
nothing.
i want it to permeate my soul.
but there's just a faint remnant of what was.
(there's a slight possibility that it might just be the smell of my sister's apartment)
i don't quite know how to go about recovering it.
i don't know how to get it.
but i'm going to go search for it.
it's almost a taste and a smell.
i can just remember it- it's in my chest.
a feeling that consumes those memories.
when i think about those days i can almost grab it.
i've never felt that before.
it's specific to that time frame- i wonder if that means that it
can not be duplicated.
it's specific.
i can feel it in my chest when i think about those days.
i can almost smell it.
i can almost touch it when i look at those pictures.
so i'll look again.
and try to piece together some plan of how to get back to it.
how to be there in that feeling again.
i wonder if it can be done.
can i get that same culmination of senses without the same circumstances?
i pray that it can be done.
Lord, please lead me to that. help me catch it.
honestly, i don't know how to explain. it's not about who i was. it's not about getting that time back. it's that feeling. that almost tangible aroma that saturated me while i was there. i need to go back. even if it's just to find that it doesn't exist anymore. even if it's to find a different smell.
