Strawberry Incense

I came home,

and the smell of strawberry incense clung to my hair like morning dewdrops on the grass.

You had played into my fantasies like you knew me.

And somewhere in between the soft sounds of an acoustic, and the flicker of a candle flame,

the thought crossed my mind that maybe it was you I had been writing about all along.

I was writing about some soul drifting across the plains of this careless life that I hadn’t quite met yet.

I watch myself from the sidelines engage again the drawn out process of giving in to someone else.

While I’m waiting for the results,

I buy some strawberry incense at the store to relive the memory.