The Linnet's Wings :Take All My Loves, My Love - Page 115

The Linnet´s Wings Olfactory Ghost By Miki Byrne It was an incongruous fragrance, delicate, floral, to rise from wrinkled skin. She had worn it for years, half my lifetime, From back when I remembered her dancing and wearing her uniform proudly with the coveted sisters buckle snug at her waist. She had grown through and past the title of her perfume. ‘Youth Dew’ conjures up visions of softness, peach-pleasant skin, clear and smooth. Yet each day she dabbed it on folds at wrist and neck, damped age spot and mole, let it mingle with a little mustiness and sweat, as thieves of age began to steal her mind. Even when she gave up washing it was there, to blur the senses, soak into clothes worn too long and grown too big. It stuck to everything. Lingered long after she had gone, oozed from drawer and wardrobe. It’s an olfactory ghost in my memory. Jolts me hard, when I pass someone wearing it. 115