The smell from within:

When the door is open, step inside. Sniff in her vast perfume, hypnotizing to fall under spell. Magical breath, like pink bubbles or a favorite candy as a child. Even her palms hold the fragrance of the afterlife, beautifully carved out from precious ancient forest woods. These trees kissed by fairies, the smell lingers lofting on leaf tops and dewdrops. Cracking open the secret fruit revealing new dreams that linger in dark canals of the nostrils. Who knows, what wishes these smells will pollinate between heaven’s gate and the murky waters below, where no scent can ever penetrate. Submerged to the cold isolated depths without being within, her smell, like a cute grin, twinkles at the edge of her eye and chin. Something lost is sinking.