Top Notes 
Earl Grey tea
Gun powder
Heart Notes 
Hinoki wood
Rooibos tea
Base Notes 
Gaiac wood
Leather
Ambroxan
Palonera
467 Reviews
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Palonera
Top Review
22
Amour. Fou!
Great is her love, so great that nothing and no one can stand beside them, between them.
A single touch - and they fall for each other, embrace each other, grasp and hold on, not letting go, no matter how hard I try.
My skin and Ambroxan - a special kind of amour fou.
Hard and loud and intense sometimes, so intense that it becomes too much for me, that I want to separate the lovers, the noisy ones, who do not relent in their passion and thus create some suffering for the nose, head, and stomach.
This has happened in "Lôant" and here and there and everywhere.
Yet I like Ambroxan, I love Ambroxan, I am still a junkie - Ambroxan has a similar effect on me as birch tar, that dark, spicy, woody magic that loves to turn my head.
Then, when the dose is right, in the bottle as on the skin.
Much does not always mean more, on the contrary.
But gently, very gently a dab here, a drop there - I rave, I indulge, I melt…
Well. Ahem. That's how it is.
With birch tar.
And with Ambroxan.
And with "B".
One glance was enough: the A-word on the "B"-list.
No matter what else is on there - Ambroxan knows no competition.
Not on me, not on my skin.
And so it was: A flutter of bergamot, a breath of sweet-spicy, well-known from EldO's "Fin du Monde" - and it becomes warm and spicy and dark and growly-soft, the claws of the velvet-black predator tickle my nostrils and much more.
An hour, two hours.
A hint of smoke, freshly chopped wood.
Strong shoulders, skin on leather, warm, soft, wild.
Close, dense, intimate.
Very intimate.
And very gentle.
Nothing jabs, nothing scratches, nothing bites.
No drum thunders, no timpani strikes.
No too much and no too little.
An aura that attracts, that pulls in and along, but does not take the ground away.
Closer to me over time, with a handful of hours, denser on the skin, lighter too, gentler, softer, cleaner - a hint of musk, skiny, almost cuddly.
And gone.
PS: Franfan - thank you!
A single touch - and they fall for each other, embrace each other, grasp and hold on, not letting go, no matter how hard I try.
My skin and Ambroxan - a special kind of amour fou.
Hard and loud and intense sometimes, so intense that it becomes too much for me, that I want to separate the lovers, the noisy ones, who do not relent in their passion and thus create some suffering for the nose, head, and stomach.
This has happened in "Lôant" and here and there and everywhere.
Yet I like Ambroxan, I love Ambroxan, I am still a junkie - Ambroxan has a similar effect on me as birch tar, that dark, spicy, woody magic that loves to turn my head.
Then, when the dose is right, in the bottle as on the skin.
Much does not always mean more, on the contrary.
But gently, very gently a dab here, a drop there - I rave, I indulge, I melt…
Well. Ahem. That's how it is.
With birch tar.
And with Ambroxan.
And with "B".
One glance was enough: the A-word on the "B"-list.
No matter what else is on there - Ambroxan knows no competition.
Not on me, not on my skin.
And so it was: A flutter of bergamot, a breath of sweet-spicy, well-known from EldO's "Fin du Monde" - and it becomes warm and spicy and dark and growly-soft, the claws of the velvet-black predator tickle my nostrils and much more.
An hour, two hours.
A hint of smoke, freshly chopped wood.
Strong shoulders, skin on leather, warm, soft, wild.
Close, dense, intimate.
Very intimate.
And very gentle.
Nothing jabs, nothing scratches, nothing bites.
No drum thunders, no timpani strikes.
No too much and no too little.
An aura that attracts, that pulls in and along, but does not take the ground away.
Closer to me over time, with a handful of hours, denser on the skin, lighter too, gentler, softer, cleaner - a hint of musk, skiny, almost cuddly.
And gone.
PS: Franfan - thank you!
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