Mint

Unreasonably, the place still smells of mint.
I told you that that scent gets everywhere.
It isn't overwhelming, just a hint
Of memory, that says you once were there.
It whispers in my nostrils as I pace
Whole evenings out because I cannot rest
While it reminds me of the missing grace
Which you supplied. This almost welcome guest
Still haunts me, though the cause of it is gone,
And yet I smile as I sniff it out;
It's nice to think, while you are moving on,
That something of you lingers with the doubt
Which will not leave me. So I do not clean
To keep the smell where it has always been.