Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Han Lynn

WHEN I PERFUME MYSELF

When I perfume myself, my twenty feet ambit exudes musk.
Wrapped in the fragrance, I walk about in crowded places.
My attar surely turns heads in front of me. It also turns heads
behind me. Myself? I just keep strolling, walking on in sweet–
ness, pleased, but embarrassed.

WHEN I PERFUME MYSELF

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WHEN I PERFUME MYSELF

When I perfume myself, my twenty feet ambit exudes musk.
Wrapped in the fragrance, I walk about in crowded places.
My attar surely turns heads in front of me. It also turns heads
behind me. Myself? I just keep strolling, walking on in sweet–
ness, pleased, but embarrassed.

WHEN I PERFUME MYSELF

When I perfume myself, my twenty feet ambit exudes musk.
Wrapped in the fragrance, I walk about in crowded places.
My attar surely turns heads in front of me. It also turns heads
behind me. Myself? I just keep strolling, walking on in sweet–
ness, pleased, but embarrassed.
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
Partners
LantarenVenster – Verhalenhuis Belvédère