The lilt of the lavender that lingered for days,
long after, by the leaning, before the louvre,
the sweet consolation of candy floss cologne
that stayed on the pillow, after you had parted.
It is sometimes that simple; a scent to sail you back to me
as if I never left the garden,
as if I never left the comfort of your caress
though when it was there I could barely catch a breath.
All words and photographs by Damien B Donnelly.
This month is looking back at the scent that will stay with me before I leave Paris. The courtyard of the Louvre was filled with a lavender covered tent for a Dior Fashion show during the Paris fashion week a few years ago.