Inhale

Saying you didn’t love her,
is like Bill Clinton
saying
he smoked,
but didn’t
inhale.

What kind of IDIOT
would put something

so sweet
so pure

up to his lips,
and not breathe it in?

Not close his eyes
and
savor
every bit of it?

Get lost within the
scent of it,

the euphoric
feeling of it?

She is like the fresh, bouncy bud of spring
crystalline,
sparkling,

a glimmer

with magic inside.

You could see it.

And she was so close to you
offering herself to you
like a knights bountiful banquet -
with a perfect-tooth
gleaming white grin
and eyes so wide
and searching.

She lifted you up with that;
elevated your soul, even.

Don’t tell me you looked away?

And then thought of her later,
over and over again
smelling her scent,
like smoke lingering in the backseat
or in the bedroom -
stuck in your clothes,
your hair.

Don’t say you didn’t love her,

that you didn’t take her all in
until your lungs burned
and you got dizzy,

seeing stars glittering
all around you...

totally
completely
overwhelmingly

HIGH