IT LINGERS

It won't leave,
because. . . it lingers:

Like the smell of good perfume
long into a hot humid sweaty day...

Like the scent of a gone lover
teasing nostrils, sketching thoughts yonder...

Like the first scene in sight
when a blind man receives sight...

Like that one whose face you spot in a crowd
and swear to search for the world around...

Like the last words of a loved one
echoing, resounding, never to be done...

Like mist on a chilly cold morning
stinging, like a thorny spirit hoovering...

Like memories etched in one's mind
replayed yet nobody else can hear it nor find...

Like the magic touch of a friend
impacting one's life knowing no end...

It won't leave
because...it still lingers.

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