La perfumo

You came to me, from the Umbrian citadel.
Aloft in your admiration of my senses.

Anointed in oils, like a glided St. Catherine,

A scent of the senses...a hue of gold, a touch of
sapphire, the aquamarine essence alighting our way,

The Pilgrim's way.


My mental health is happier than when he had gone, gone,
Gone to the Venetian waterfields - like a golden fleeced lamb to the drug induced
Death.

Now, in essence, essentially, looping over time, in heaven
he looks upon me, wishing me well.

Wish fulfilment in my writing of this story.

Two literary, holy figures vie for our attention...

Yet only one wins.