Essence

Her essence took up space in my nose, in my vision and speech. Her violet touch had left prints and stains inside my eyelids; her footprints could be found throughout the inner seams of my clothing. She left a pungent stamp on my skin, like perfume from a lily's stamen, dragging scent paths across the wooden floors of my bedroom. I drank her essence into my lungs, pulled it deep into the crevices of my stomach. I rolled in the folds of her imprint and tattooed it into my arms and feet. I reveled in her.