Stuffy Nose

I inhale through a stuffy nose…

smell nothing worth smelling
nothing that will clear my nasal passage
before entering my brain
turning neutrality into euphoria

nothing that’s the scentual equivalent
of snow turned blue by twilight
soft beauty that refuses to let itself be named
instead, just infiltrates my pores

nothing that keeps me coming back
coming back, I can’t get enough
enough, I don’t even notice when it’s there
only when it’s not

nothing like you
nothing like us
I would breathe it in stages
its density suffocating, I had to mix it with pure oxygen

it was kind of its own thing
it wasn’t sweet
it didn’t follow rules
it went away at will

make more, but it was a constant process
I wanted to bottle and store it
knowing it wouldn’t go on forever
not knowing what I’d do without it

I leaned over, you said:
“I’m sorry I stuck my arm in your nose.”
I said:
“No, I stuck my nose in your arm.”

I lean over…
I lean over.
I lean into nothing
feels like nothing, smells like nothing

my stuffy nose closes in denial.


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