It was a surprising summer scent that reminded me of her and our week under the southern sun in 97; once somewhat of a painful souvenir, now actually makes me smile. It isn't harmful nostalgia or anything, but it goes a long way to show how quickly things change given enough time. There were times when I could not escape reenacting the fantasy of pressing my body against hers, tanned beautiful and soft through a warm open silk robe... perfect. Things of the past, erased by a new love, though also lost, once more. I don't believe in
karma, but admist another period of renewed painful souvenirs, one has to wonder if these are not balanced concequences of my immoral early-2000 activities.
