Second Edit: So Pungent That a Nose Bleed was Inevitable

[Richard]

So Pungent That a Nose Bleed was Inevitable

"Should I close the window?"
I whispered. "No, I love the smell
of freshly cut grass." you answered,
your unsymmetrical breasts reminding me of us.

Our odor deadened
by my neighbor's maintained lawn,
I planted your money in an envelope,
but couldn't imagine what would grow.

Two years later, my spade stuttered through soil
after you ended this transaction-
I didn't think you capable of unsolicited love.

Our eyes would have never met that day
if not for that cheap perfume,
sweeter than any rose I bought for you.
I buzzed around you like a hungry bee,
your proposition a flower with a stigma.

First Edit:

A Gardener's Folly

So pungent that a nose bleed was inevitable...

Do you remember the first time penetrated by my fingers?
They smelled of you for days, your satisfaction
quieter than my neighbor's lawnmower.
Your money planted in an envelope,
brown as the dirt under my nails.

"Should I close the window,"
I whispered. "No, I love the smell
of freshly cut grass." you answered,
naked, yet so much still unknown;
your unsymmetrical breasts reminding me of us.

Two years later, my spade stuttered through soil
after you ended this transaction-
I didn't think you capable of unsolicited love.

Our eyes would have never met that day
if you didn't drench yourself in that cheap perfume;
artificial sweetness washed away
the shit stench stuck in my nostrils' memory
as I buzzed around you like a hungry bee,
your proposition a flower with a stigma.


Original:


A Botanist's Love Song

So pungent that a nose bleed was inevitable...

Do you remember the first time penetrated by my fingers?
They smelled of you for days, your satisfaction
quieter than my neighbor's lawnmower.
Your money in an envelope,
brown as autumn leaves.

"Should I close the window,"
I whispered. "No, I love the smell
of freshly cut grass." you answered,
naked, yet so much still unknown-
your unsymmetrical breasts reminding me of us.

My spade slices through soil with greater ease
than saying goodbye after two years.
Our eyes would have never met that day
if you didn't drench yourself in that cheap perfume;
I buzzed around you like a hungry bee,
your proposition a flower with a stigma.