i love what love smells like

it has the scent of ocean.

and lavender.

lavender swaying on an ocean breeze.

have you ever tried to smell an emotion? you can, you know.

depression smells like salt to me. salt and death. heaviness stuffs the air, so much that you almost can't breathe.
and when you finally catch your breath, it stings your nose to inhale.

well, love has a smell too. it smells like joy. thick, viscous and warm, like honey.

it bounces through the air like soundwaves. crests and troughs of cinnamon and nectar. tendrils of burning sage and pine.

it smells like laughter, real laughter. the kind that only comes from deep, down within, from some place you can't quite locate to scratch. the kind that bubbles up inside of you and erupts. those fits of laughter that make every muscle burn and ache with delight.

that's what love smells like.

it smells like hot sunshine beating down on your back, leaving its signature on your skin. it smells like melted carob infused with the juice of sugar cane dripping of your fingertips.

it smells like her hair flirting with your nostrils as she lays her head on your chest and listens to your heart beat. thump-thump.

it smells like his skin even as it glistens with perspiration, his own unique blend of life and blood.

when you walk into a room filled with love, its aroma smacks you in the face as soon as your cross the threshold.

you can take a deep breath in that room.
inhale and exhale.

there's ample air to breathe there.

and it doesn't sting.