The Haunting Smell
P Pradip Chattopadhyay
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Not a thought that me haunts,
A smell,
That in fiery times me lends
Respite from hell.
It’s no fragrance wafted in air
No sweet scent,
It I feel right there
As healer of torment.
I smelled it first
From my time in her cavern
It was to begin my thirst
For the love of a woman.
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