Your Scent

I had your scent when the morning saved my life,
Like your mouth the realm of the speaking men entered;
You do not remember me weeping like an angel,
Or returning to the grave as a spy of the undead.
Do not remember me, for I speak too madly, too fast,
As my turning face is of the various hues that attract.
My loved feet no longer despair in burdens of distinction,
One’s name resounds in the heavens of real light,
Not darkness that sways in the tomorrow, or life fading.
I had your scent when the morning saved my life,
Like your face in super humanity, in distinguished calamity.
The radical words of a captain disdain the day of its delivery,
Like your face in super humanity, in saying so happily.