The Invisible Architecture of Dispersed Scent

It rose silent, a weightless form,
an ephemeral pillar, a design in air.
Not stone nor lime, but spirit stretched forth
from an essence that the wind does not vary,
still solid, a shell for the sense of smell,
before nothing extinguished its design.

Then it yields, not collapsing, but slowly unwinds
its scrolls, its delicate arches.
Each molecule a step that escapes,
opening passages among invisible threads.
An ethereal colonnade fades away,
the space adjusts itself to breaths.

They remain empty, like rooms emptied out
where a memory clings and breathes.
Light traces, not forgotten,
of a structure still admired,
in the silence of an echo that is no sound,
but the form of an ephemeral gift.