The Perfume Bottle
It was a gift from one I loved so dearly,
wrapped in golden foil and tied with a bow,
a perfume vial, nay, joy bottled up in cut glass.
When I applied it on me for the first time, it was heaven.
Its smell clung to every pore of my skin, dug deep into every sinew of me…
a smell I loved so dearly, the smell that tickled my nostrils.
The same was the scent, that permeated from him,
It graced every room and every corner he went.
It lingered in the air, making his presence felt even after he left.
Whenever I applied it on me, I could feel him close.
Not sure, when a crack fell into our cemented relationship
Silence began hanging heavy between us, his calls became less frequent.
Days stretched in deepening silence and he stopped visiting me.
I no longer had the mood to use the perfume any more
and kept the bottle away, a souvenir of the love we had.
Now it stays on the mantelpiece-
a sad reminder of the scent that once ensnared me!
Whenever someone opens it, the fragrance spills out.
Breathing in that luscious aroma, a nostalgic fever
rushes over, flooding my mind like a river in spate.
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