Jasmine and Vanilla have inspired me to write. Jasmine is a fiery girl who tantalized my body in a tub of steaming water. Vanilla caresses the edges of my nostrils. She is a tease, a spirit you can never quite catch, and her I find in memory as a scent.

I cannot determine if I am rejuvenated, relaxed, or ready to meet The Dream King. My body feels warm and calm, a feeling it has needed for several days, if not weeks. My muscles are lax and limp. On the one hand I feel as if I could go to sleep at any moment, yet my mind is very alert and alive and seems to not wish me to slumber as of yet.

I am sitting in shadows listening to the air purifier that really only serves as my white noise maker. It has become a bedtime habit to turn it on and listen to its gentle drone let me pass to sleep. I wear nothing but a faded yellow towel. Still soft, yet worn from use and washing. My feminine hips are too wide to let its fabrics cover all my skin as a slit is made at the very front where gentlemen may long to glance. My pores are open and breathing in the air and I pause to take a deep breath and fill my lungs. My ankles are crossed as I sit rather rigidly, yet I feel so very calm and serene. Soon my skin will begin to yearn for the ritual it has felt every day since I can remember; lotion a plenty upon my tan skin. It's what past lovers have coined "the Kate scent" and have mercy, what will I ever do if cherry almond lotion ever stops production?

My cuticles are cracked and dry, a situation I must remedy soon, as their appearance is sloppy and unladly-like, yet a nail biter I have always been. My cheeks feel radiant and clean from a scrub and now my eyelids begin to droop a bit as all my life's comforts, for as much as I have at this moment, encompass me.

Jasmine tempts me to the recesses of my bedroom where cherries and almonds await me.