Black Flower Perfume

 

…but it’s written in French, which

always sounds sweeter, more romantic: 

musical, flowing, soft … mellifluous!

‘Fleur Noir’ it says. The bottle

is bold, black, rectangular; uncompromising

and elegant, lettered in gold.

I used to wear Taboo, or Musk.

When younger, Tweed. When mature, Poison.

The heavy scents of amour.

This new one seduced me at once –

the aroma just as enticing, but subtler, 

more mysterious, hinting at magic.

Each morning after my shower, I spray

behind my ears, as all young girls are taught,

and my pulse points, as women know.

Then I add an extravagant swirl through my aura, 

and a touch on my upper lip, to breathe it in all day.

At last, I am my own lover. I wear it for me. 

Sharing with Poets and Storytellers United at Friday Writings #193: Tell Me Something Good. 

Written as part of an occasional series called Moments in My Days, which began in response to a photo prompt from a facebook group I'm in; then I decided to add some verses, and to continue indefinitely.