Postcards from an Admirer
2. Morocco, 2015
(From Marrakesh, in the marketplace.)
You lean in and I try not to be obvious as I take a deep breath,
inhaling all I can of you and not hearing a word you say.
“Sorry, what?”
It’s not my fault, you know. It’s yours.
You are the one who smells so good.
I thought of it today, standing next to a spice vendor.
He scooped the top off a mountain of coriander and held the handful out,
trailing rusted golden dust onto the breeze.
The scent was strong and exotic, but it only left me wanting to cleanse
the coriander from my nostrils and fill my senses with you once more.
If I spoke his language, I would have asked the spice man
which powder mountain held the scent of you.
About the Creator
Rachel Colleen
I grew from deep roots, from people of faith & purpose. I'm a make-it-happen girl trained by generations of strong, stubborn women to get the job done. I am deeply passionate about food, music, story, and how God calls His people. I write.
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