Like meat just gone off,
Like milk beginning to sour.
As flesh decays rancid fumes
Color the air rank,
Assaulting the nostrils.
No amount of perfume
Can cover the stench of death.
No salt is strong enough
To turn the tide of decay.
One choice remains.
Quickly rid the air of the putrid odor with
Flesh and bone cannot
Remain intact when met with flames;
Red and orange,
Blue and white,
Consuming hungrily the offered gift.
Though the singed and sweetly sick scent of
Charring flesh and boiling blood
Crashes upon the olfactory senses,
Like stormy waves upon the shore,
It lasts but a fraction of time compared to
Carcasses left in the desert sun to rot.
No death stench carried on the wind for days
Gathering all vulturous beasts to
Rip and tear
Scatter and consume.
Passionate flames leave but
Pure oil smells sweet
Velvety soft and fresh
It smoothes skin
Locking in moisture.
Oil suspends any chosen fragrance
Be it rose, or lavender,
Lily or jasmine.
Though the fruit was crushed to
Squeeze out the precious lubricant,
It resisted not.
Willing yielding its treasure
What if the two married?
United as one?
Acidic ashes of loss,
Combined with oil sweet.
Something new emerges.
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