In the morning, before we part for the day,
And head out on our own ways,
That tight embrace,
It leaves a small trace.
A trace of your fragrance,
That keeps me at bay from vices like arrogance.
When such influences come searching for me,
I breath a little deeply,
and your fragrance takes over me.
People sometimes get surprised,
with the way I handle things.
I just keep telling them,
It's not me, I am nothing.
It's your fragrance.
If just your fragrance,
can make me look like a magician
I wonder what would happen,
If I could carry a part of you with me,
Or even better, I become you, or you become me.
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