Oct 3, 2008

Poetry Friday Challenge -- The Five Senses Series: Scent (Of A Woman)

I like how women smell. Simple as that.

I can't keep from thinking about the Al Pacino movie every time I think about it, though. I see his grizzled old extraordinarily cool self and that lithe young lady tangoing across the dance floor after he recognises the scent of her soap.

Let's face it, girls just smell good. I don't mean powdered and perfumed and deodorized girls, either. Those girls have been Sanitized For Your Protection, and there's nothing interesting about that. If I wanted to smell expensive shampoo and perfumes squirted on in abundance and Secret Super Duper Ultra Dry I'd walk down the Personal Hygiene aisle at Wall To Wall Mart. What I mean is the unadulterated, clean, sweet scent of a woman's skin, unladen with odd ungents and peculiar perfumes. The natural pheromones and personal-as-fingerprints smell of a woman's skin. There is nothing in life quite so nice as that smell.

The scent of newly cut grass makes me smile wide.

Freshly-turned earth makes me want to curl my toes for glee.

That special combination of long-chain polymers that a new car exudes when you first open it's doors is an excellent one indeed.

Even the peculiar burnt Cosmoline grease smell of a new motorcycle engine being broken in makes my nose quiver with happiness, but none of those matches the smell of a woman's skin.

I don't know how else to say it.

One of my great pleasures is waking up next to a woman in the morning and taking a deep breath of Her. That bed-warmed, indescribably yummy musk that only a good night's sleep can produce.

Another of my great pleasures is to work beside a woman for a while, good energetic labour and catch a whiff of sun-warmed skin overlaid with the soft tang of sweat that is indescribably Her, perfectly personal.

Have you ever walked into a friend's house for the first time and taken a deep breath? You should, because after a few exposures you'll never smell it again. Ever notice how each house, each family has it's own scent compiled of cooking and clothing and just living? Try it in a single woman's home. That's HER scent, as surely as a lioness marks her lair with her scents. Drink that scent in, savour it like a wine. It will tell you more about her than you know, but it will tell the deep down you, the primitive you hunkered by his fire in your hindbrain. He'll know, and he'll remember. Listen to him, he's smarter than you give him credit for, even if he does still burn his fingers on hot food.

That's not even mentioning sex. When a woman is aroused she gives off a whole host of delicious scents, most of which your body responds to without even resorting to asking the brain, as though our male noses are hotwired directly to our naughty bits. I shan't get pornographic but the scent of a willing and eager woman is the single most riveting thing there is.

The scent of a woman. The single most excellent thing in the world. Alright men, all together now, deep breath -- IN.


Mona Buonanotte said...

You've obviously never smelled me when I go two days without a shower...! :)

Mother of Invention said...

(Great movie btw) Yes, I've heard that, but being a woman, I have never smelled it! A man has his own smell too...I love the smell of my husband on his pillow!! (That's a good excuse not to wash them!)

As kids, we used to call it someone's "home smell" and some were just notably awful and others so pleasant. Guess smells really can define you. Do you ever know what your own home smell is??? Not likely....we're too immersed.

Lucky Star said...

Aw, that was FANTASTIC!!! If you've been away from your own home for a good long time (a couple weeks usually does it) then you can actually smell your own home's smell. It's trippy.

meno said...

Now i feel pressured to smell good.

I too dislike most perfumes. They make me gag. Especially when they are use in lieu of bathwater.

Nancy Dancehall said...

Oh, it works both ways, my friend.

I once dated a guy far longer than I should have because of the way his skin smelled. I had a torn-off t-shirt sleeve of his that I would take out and smell even after we broke up. I was better off with the sleeve, believe me.

Clowncar said...

Ah, unadulterated, clean and sweet. I don't even mind a little sweat worked into the mix. Mmmmm...

Hate new car smell, though. Ick. Not that I've ever owned a new car.

Irrelephant said...

Mona, I've never smelled you at all! Michigan is, what, about thirty states north of me? *wink*

MoI, I like the name your family gave it, I never thought about it that way. I always wonder what my house smells like, but like you said, that immersion numbs us.

Hey Lucky! I thought we'd lost you! It's good to hear from you again. I guess I've never been away from my house long enough--all I ever get is that sort of closed-up, musty smell it gets when we've been gone a week without a good airing out.

No pressure, meno, all you gotta do is show up, your body does the rest for ya. I totally agree about the bathing in perfume thing--there isn't much that's more foul than that.

*lol* Did the sleeve treat you better than he did, Nancy?

CC, I've had to poke my head into a lot of new ones before I ever got one myself. Cars that is, not women.