Of melting perfume

Has the soft perfume melted at last?

To the burning fire?

Of a Rendevouz?

The trickling, dripping perfume...

Guilty yet without regret.

At the unabashed rain

Falling naked

To the warm haze

Of a winter sun.

Endless, relentless.

Face the divine, it won't again...

For it knows where it belongs

Dust to dust...

Ashes to ashes...

To be soaked

And never again to be seen!