Fragrance

The wind opens

the cafe door,

waltzes in with

night blooming jasmine,

dressed in

pink-drenched clouds.

She stirs a latte

with a fingertip

painted purple lilacs.

Streetlights pull

up a chair

next to the window,

and wink through

fragrant listening.

published in “Alien Buddha Zine #54 Sept 2023,” republished on Scuzzbucket