You smell like an old perfume.
One that comes from a romantic book gifted
to my grandma by her lover
whom she could not marry.
For the features,
the pages took pale unlike your eyes
and they hold an ocean of some hidden voice
just like yours.
Covered with brown leather,
it has a small lock just like your heart
wrapping your emotions.
And there are page numbers that does not end the story,
just like ours.
The aroma of the book reminds me of the one she used to
paint
and how she never said “I do” to any other man.
The fragrance reminds her of him.
The fragrance reminds me of you.
Retro – Parisha Dutta
