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Dis
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The smell of your scalp came to me in a rush of memory;
Delicious rare human oilfield,
Sweet and lush, scented like sleep,
"Mmm, there's nothing like the smell of a baby's head," my mother effused, nostrils wide.
(I cannot remember whose baby it was,
or if it really happened,
but there it is, regardless,
a memory out of time.)
Leaning perfunctorily forward,
I detected nothing.
Wriggling little Churchill,
Pug and corpulent, empty and waiting,
I detected nothing.
Until now.
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