Perfume lingers, in soft wafting eddies. Aroma pungent and yet soothing to the senses. Spirals of white grey smoke ascending to the ceiling from the cone, that burns upon the mantle.
Incense, how I have missed you, your allure, they way you beckon, to encroach upon the heart to open. A thousand petals slowly blooming, bewitched by the scent and sweet promise of musk, rose and sandalwood. Patchouli, violet and amber.
I savor you all the more, for you kiss will linger and haunt me for days, when your fire is not more, while other perfumes wane, fade and die in a matter of moments, their memories lost. While the enticing scents of your embrace will continue to hug upon the fabric of my garb, of the silk of my brown tresses.
You will always have a place in my heart, for my soul constantly longs to be enraptured by your sway and hold upon it.
Come let us dance, allow me to ignite you, to wave your intoxicating smoke, about the rooms of where my spirit and energy roam. Allow your self to be truly honored and complimented, for you will always have a place upon my mantle.
Ganesha, Shakti, Buddha and Quan Yin, all sing your praise, dancing in the heavens, in that landscape and fabric of my being.
How you are underestimated, you have been forever, and when I am nothing but ash and photographs, you will go on. Touching people with your perpetual embrace.