“I can hear your whisper and distant mutter. I can smell your damp on the breeze and in the sky I see the halo of your violence. Storm I know you are coming.”
“I will come back as a little breeze. You will feel me on your face, and you will know that I am still listening. So you can still talk to me.”
“I know you're there. I can smell your filthy cigars!”
“I don't know if spirits do indeed roam the world, but even if they do, I will sense your presence everywhere. When I listen to the ocean, it will be your whispers; when I see a dazzling sunset, it will be your image in the sky.”
“Oh come on, you talk so much shit I can smell it on your breath.”
“I can smell your blood now. I can smell it in every room of the house.”