PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

His woody scent lingered in her hair, a muskiness touched with bergamot oil and a sprinkling of sage. Confused for a moment, she sat up in bed - was this a dream? His homecoming was a miracle she had prayed on but all had lost hope for. They had been separated by 10 years of miserable living and an ocean between them. She looked around, on the nightstand there was tea in her favorite china cup, the floral Limoges he had given her on their 2nd anniversary. The saucer she had broke years before. There was still a dent in the den wall where she had hurled it in a fit of anger and frustration. She lifted the cup to her lips, inhaled the sweet bouquet of Jasmine,  dared to entertain the thought that he remembered what she liked even after all those years. There too was a note, stained wet where the cup had touched its edge. She read the blocky handwriting, a utilitarian script that she had relied on for the faith that he might return someday - "I love you, I'll be back". At the sight of those words she was gripped with a terrifying dejavu - the same note, the same tea in the same cup, the same bedroom, the same smell of him. Only one thing was different… a battered suitcase waited in the hallway outside the bedroom door.