by Stacy Milbouer
If I smell her perfume one more time I will have to show my love in a way that most would feel inappropriate. First I’ll breathe in her hair, no matter who’s around - take in the mixture of lilacs and homemade pot roast, then nibble her ear in hope the scent will translate to flavor, rub against her skin so that she can’t ignore me as she has every day since I first saw her at Norton Pond. Well there was that one time when I swam to the place where she basks in the sun (which by the way just made her perfume stronger), peeked up from the end of the dock and couldn’t believe when she reached out and touched my head for an ecstatic second before my brother called to me to come home for dinner, “Right now Michael - right now!” And I know it sounds unbelievable - to be so in love with someone who touched you only once and smells like spring and home - but I am, I’m in love and I know I’ll never love anyone like I love her, ever again. So what if we’re strangers and come from two different worlds - two different species? We’re both alive, we’re both warm blooded - isn’t that enough?
Stacy Milbouer is a reporter, columnist and editor living in New England. Her poems and short stories have been published in literary journals, and her last book (Dying in Vein: Blood, Deception... Justice) was published in 2004.