There is a smell in my nose that hasn’t been there for some time.
It is likely my interpretation of the sensations resulting from enlarged capillaries in my sinus cavity – clinically speaking.
What hits me is not this mechanical chemical experience of increased iron oxidation.
What hits are the memories of when I last felt these feelings, from when I was scared at 12, lost on the blacktops south of Lawrence; from when I was being chased by a fast moving storm front near Lone Star; from August nights when my Body was so flush that I could not sleep for the pounding of my heart and the ache of the veins my forearms and thighs; from those summer nights where the barometer dropped so quickly that I bled from both nostrils, ichor rendered from me by the Elements.
The California mist is in my head. The rolling Kansas wall clouds are only a few weeks away. My machine is galvanized by the prospect of the exposure. The Higher Authority will prevail if it is ordered, but until that end, I will place myself into the breech, that is where life is.
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