i would sniff strawberry shortcake’s 
hair in my dark closet when sad. 
baby’s first dopamine hit. later
i’d imagine someone wanting to
sniff me. being comfort sounded
right. wooden bowl of oatmeal.
knitted blanket tucked around
shoulders. pile of old books.
motherhood touched this. briefly.
rock. sing. cuddle. being enough
for a time. mother’s first dopamine
hit. now, comfort is fog blowing
in and out. i sniff strawberries
but only worry they will spoil
early. too soft. wasteful. words
don’t chase me. slower. slower.
s l o w e r. hide under blanket 
with phone. tell me something.
dopamine hit me. hit me. hip
hurts me. comfort turns sour.
sniff something, anything. no,
call me comfort. call me. me.