Concealed aromas escape from bottle,
A monumental vessel, holding precious cargo,
Its misty contents, invading the air,
Essence of rose, departing spray.
Passion consumes,
In air exotic,
Propelled by love's romantic thought,
Controlling the minds of those that take a breath.
I, the wearer, masked behind perfume's power,
Entranced by scent.
Lust for the potion nestled on my body,
Those around me-controlled by mist.
The fragrance captivates its keeper,
I, the possessor, administer mist,
The elixir, a dangerous weapon,
My indulgence revealed.
My body, inhabited by sensuality,
A puppet controlled by the potion.
The brew, the host upon my spirit,
Slowly consuming my dignity.
The glass in which it's kept, unbreakable,
My mind vulnerable to the mist's magic touch,
Charting the air with every twist and turn,
Calling the air "home", with no intentions of leaving.
My index finger and thumb pinch my nose,
Trying to deflect the power of the scent,
Potpourri, its allied troop,
Strategically mapping out its next attack.
Their next victim, my chocolate lab,
Chasing him down, invading his nose,
Achoo!
Retreat! Retreat!
With the last spray of its intoxicating fumes,
With the last hint of residue from the potpourri,
The marvel lingers.
