The Scent of a Man
During my limited days of attempting online dating, I came across a site at which I answered over 100 profile questions. One of them asked if it mattered whether a person smelled good. One of the multiple choice options was "it matters more than you think." That was my answer.
I have a gifted sense of smell and taste. Scent is an important part of identity - the smell when I walk through the door, into my room, my bathroom, my closet; the smell on the bed after waking from a sound sleep versus a nightmare; the smell of two intimate bodies between the sheets; the smell in the air through the seasons; the smell of clean water and medicated salt; the smell of chlorine and bromine from a summer pool; the smell of nostalgia in a shop, or of food, or flowers and grass; the smell of excitement in a sweaty, smokey concert hall; my perfume, which people remember me by.
In men, I seem to be drawn to familiarity:
I suppose clean is an important element. Like soap and shampoo. Or after shave and fresh deodorant.
But any man can smell fresh out of a shower.
It is pleasing but never lasts long enough for me to grow fond of.
The more important element is in blood and sweat.
Circulation triggers the production of a personal scent;
spritz of cologne on pulse points,
the stain it leaves on a shirt;
sweat from a nervous date,
or from a walk in the park,
or from an honest day's work....
Pheromones,
it is something I could remember a person by.
All of this mixed with the familiarity of alcohol in the bloodstream,
and that of the lingering cigarette smoke....
The scent of a man.
An embrace,
a kiss,
that I long to stay close and dear to, and true.
A scent I would recognize even in slumber, as I dream away into the fairy tale of a future.
I have a gifted sense of smell and taste. Scent is an important part of identity - the smell when I walk through the door, into my room, my bathroom, my closet; the smell on the bed after waking from a sound sleep versus a nightmare; the smell of two intimate bodies between the sheets; the smell in the air through the seasons; the smell of clean water and medicated salt; the smell of chlorine and bromine from a summer pool; the smell of nostalgia in a shop, or of food, or flowers and grass; the smell of excitement in a sweaty, smokey concert hall; my perfume, which people remember me by.
In men, I seem to be drawn to familiarity:
I suppose clean is an important element. Like soap and shampoo. Or after shave and fresh deodorant.
But any man can smell fresh out of a shower.
It is pleasing but never lasts long enough for me to grow fond of.
The more important element is in blood and sweat.
Circulation triggers the production of a personal scent;
spritz of cologne on pulse points,
the stain it leaves on a shirt;
sweat from a nervous date,
or from a walk in the park,
or from an honest day's work....
Pheromones,
it is something I could remember a person by.
All of this mixed with the familiarity of alcohol in the bloodstream,
and that of the lingering cigarette smoke....
The scent of a man.
An embrace,
a kiss,
that I long to stay close and dear to, and true.
A scent I would recognize even in slumber, as I dream away into the fairy tale of a future.
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| Modern Hepburn |
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