I want to be petrichor on a regular evening in February that make you think of me and say, “Remember that evening when the world smelled...

As the moon hides behind the grey clouds, As the soil smells of petrichor, As the wind blows colder than usual, That’s when I know, That...

The whole night scented of petrichor. I know this because after you fell asleep while complaining about how you couldn’t see the stars...