part sweat, part soft leather,
a waft of tobacco and the press
of bodies through layers of wool coats
and suede jackets,
shoulder blades beneath hands as secret salty
tears are dried
on sleeves,
sawdust, green in a broken august and the
dying musk of a forest carpet just before dawn
in early november,
sometimes whiskey and sometimes soap,
and black coffee, always, always black coffee,
the kind of heady love you recognize
the second you smell it
and suddenly the whole world is safe
again for you.
a waft of tobacco and the press
of bodies through layers of wool coats
and suede jackets,
shoulder blades beneath hands as secret salty
tears are dried
on sleeves,
sawdust, green in a broken august and the
dying musk of a forest carpet just before dawn
in early november,
sometimes whiskey and sometimes soap,
and black coffee, always, always black coffee,
the kind of heady love you recognize
the second you smell it
and suddenly the whole world is safe
again for you.
Mckay
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