Scent of self.

I was reading a book. Its title and pages have power. More than power, it has ancient time in it. Yours and mine. For a moment, it was the perfect timing, something aligned. My eyes drifted to the left of the page, something extraordinary touched my consciousness. The words were flowing, the mind idling, long for the ride. Before I completed formulating the thought “what is..”, I noticed a smell. It’s tart sweet and potent, it gave my nose a sting. Something in me shifted, and I knew there’s no smell, but a sensation coming from myself. It drew my attention to my state of being: I haven’t been afraid for awhile (thanks to you); I read the words “…persistence…time tames…all great powers on earth…”; I feel my posture: feminine and relaxed; I don’t have to pretend; I don’t have to keep reminding myself how others see me; I don’t have to frame myself according to others’ expectations. I am myself and I have time. For the first in a very very long time, for all one whole second, I experienced and know elation. I can smile.

One thought on “Scent of self.

  1. Wow. I read this while putting myself as the character in your piece, and I felt all that you felt. This is otherworldly.


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