…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.