Scapa

I bite into aluminum,
floating in the endless void of space. Cold.
Light-years away, a herbaceous planet.
I can't reach it. What a pity.

Miss Sissi loses her scarf in the Florentine orange grove.
Bitter loss.
A gentleman prevents her fainting with cologne.
She smiles.

Truly lemon!
Followed by vanilla,
wrapped in the finest smoke -
warmth!
Riding on a leather saddle into the rising sun -
dreamy!