My local drugstore has a limited edition of Charlie. It is a new version, but still smells a lot like the original. Charlie was my first perfume. Just smelling it again brought tears to my eyes and then I felt compelled to explain to the shop assistant why I was crying. She said not to worry, another woman had already cried over Charlie earlier today.
It smells of hyacinths
and school uniforms.
It smells of
Rivers of Babylon and Summer Nights.
Of a heart broken for the first time,
of peach and lily-of-the-valley.
It is an old lover that has returned.
Still handsome, it brings back
its aroma of violets and carnations,
of hair gel and disco balls,
of lipstick and tears
and the first glass of wine.
GloPoWriMo Day 28