The Scent of Who You Are

It starts small, a trace, a wisp,

hovering near like a subtle whisper,

the cologne of your kindness leaks out.

Ambition brims sharp, citrusy, an orange burst,

while worry fogs the air, mossy and damp.

On rainy afternoons, you carry vanilla,

a warmth, a reassurance against gray skies.

In the burn of summer heat, musk thickens,

confidence climbing, bold as cedar’s bark.

Others lean in closer, nostrils open wide,

taking in your invisible signature—a map

of yesterday’s heartbreak, today's laughter,

a crush of lilac, then steel, and sea salt.

Every handshake seals this quiet revelation.

Every hug releases your unwritten autobiography.

Here, your scent, an unspoken introduction,

trails behind you like a truth you cannot hide.