A woman sits nearby and the scent of her perfume swirls into your nostrils with the first breath, then with the second and deeper inhalation it fills your whole body, turning it into a dreamy tingle, as if you are in a trance.
It's a feeling you used to have often as a child, one of the great pleasures of being alive. You disappear into it, becoming that scent and the deep self that it speaks to. The presence of something softens you, dissolves you into your being.
It reminds you of how you feel when you are between worlds, in the womb, falling asleep or surfacing. It's like twilight or first light. You close your eyes and savour it or stare transfixed, gazing into inner space.
You feel. It's a state of feeling. Like in a dream, feeling is foremost. It's as if an angel lover is caressing you, a touch is transporting you. Something is reaching out from the ether, reaching into your essence.
You are the interface between everything and nothing. You are a momentary membrane, a wisp of warmth, the perfume of the great mystery, a scent in the air.
You are eternal.