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Thank you google images for the use of this photo

She wore Cotillion,
an old-fashioned perfume
nestled between ample breasts

As a child,
I'd slide into her arms
waiting to catch the scent
of perfumed skin

I loved those hugs-
She saw only my goodness
and I felt like a princess,
despite my tomboyish ways

I told her, "I never feel pretty auntie"

She'd smile and say, "You are a swan."
Then she'd tuck me to her heart,
and I believed

She taught me,
beauty is the secret place of the heart-
duplicity isn't found there, nor vanity

When she died,
I remember stroking her cheek and
thinking how breathtakingly beautiful she was-
Even then, she smelled of Cotillion


KB said...

A beautiful tribute X

Marja said...

Very touching and beautiful


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