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Writer's pictureSydney Elizabeth Chandler

Jasmine

I took a bath

in my mother’s perfume

I soaked my skin

in her oiled quintessence

The bottle read

Jasmine, Ethanol, Osmanthus,

but my skin ­­– scented of

swift kisses from

Mother’s mouth to

wet cheek sang –

steeped in the calligraphy

of her breath

the soft song of air

whistling through bedtime night

as she shared with me

my favorite fairy tale

about a girl

soaked in Mother’s

Perfume

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