ambergris

(to a prompt)

Belched up by adolescence on the shore of responsibility

waiting for someone – anyone to find me.

And divine that if they mix

my stink with the fragrance of flowers

their smell will linger longer on the skin

of a wrist, a neck, between breasts.

No one will know I am there

tasting flower kissed skin

so I stay and linger longer than I should.

5-9-25