Sillage

You arrived like a breeze,

rustling through heart's leafs,

swaying to your voice.

Displaying that charming grin,

it took little for you to win,

capturing my attention. 

Sillage . . .

The door is clicked shut, 

still your presence remains,

a warm drift of perfume,

evokes tender emotions,

our brief meetings, 

not enough to satiate,

so, I savor sensations,

from your lingering scent.

The silence of solitude, 

lights up a conversation, 

which I wished to have,

and to bare my heart,

for, I want nothing more,

than to standing beside you.

Sillage . . .

I watch the aroma fades,

desperately grasping remaining trace,

knowing tomorrow you will return,

still want to retain beloved moments,

stirring emotions, even if it's faint,

giving me a nudge, to accept . . .

These budding feelings!

P.S.

Sillage : The scented trail left in the air when someone wearing perfume walks past or leave the room.