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The smell of trees.

We've spoken about Agastya before, in this post - A new haircut. This poem is based on a very particular line that I wrote for him in that post. It was "He missed his people and the way they smelled like different kinds of trees." Let's talk more about that.....

A happy puppy.

He reminded me of the kind of love that drowns you. His words always felt like a push off the cliff and his touch felt more hot than warm. But then if I drowned, he'd kiss me till I could breathe again. If he pushed me off a cliff, he'd fall with me and hold me close in an embrace and take the impact....