My mother told me that the plants growing in the yard aren't honeysuckles,
But they might as well be.
She said they're yellow jasmine,
But they smell so sweet —
A scent that reminds me of you, something I want to experience again.
Given only the briefest glimpse of how the nights can be, cuddled up next to you in a bundle, I'm intoxicated. I want to feel that again.
They're not honeysuckles at all. A google search made me look silly. I should have known that.
But they smell like love. Like sunshine and something tranquil. They smell like laughter.
They smell like how you feel to me.
