No scent is missed,
No inhaled air is empty.
The scent is a box of coloured mist
To bring in imagery.
These nostrils celebrate days
Through haling the loaded air
And propelling power through stories,
Millions of stories shared.
ββ

canβt leave without scent, good or bad

and its evolving fragrance, softened before dried

sadly this leaf was not so nicely scented ππΌ thrown away

batik has a good scent as it is washed with lerak (soap berry)

frangipani, a flower that is popular as graveyard flower in Java island β₯οΈ sweet fragrance of the death

i miss the scent of the thin air by the rice field under the blue sky π
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