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Top Review
A Temple for Spirits
In the loud glow of the blazing cold
I stare at swirling clouds of ice-green smoke, flowing backward into a magical myrrh, strangely drawn in by the gnarled branches that twist like hundreds of hands in all directions of the vast desert. Blinded by flashes of bitter green citrus peels in the rumbling thunderstorm, the high shimmer of herb-sweet sage, in the carnation-like fog of a fireworks display of dark sandy cinnamon leaves, I admire the tree as it warmly spices the frosty clouds, rooted in the earthy smoke of yellow-brown galbanum. Like the beginning of a happy intoxication, the scent of the smoke hits me in the belly and sends me on a
Ride on the Incense Stick
into transcendent memories, blurred time, felt clumps full of soap, knotted by a girl who smells of Nag Champa. I see her dancing in sandalwoods, in flowing colors of sweet flowers that burst into vanilla resins, lingering for many hours. I ride the smoke through walls of warm Washburn guitars, which leave wonderfully soft waves in the hypnotic echo, far out in the room. Sometimes I believe that the scent of forest floor shows itself in there, only to immediately hide again in the slowly rising veils of warm incense.
Tobacco Tantra
As I notice that my incense stick rides on the soft waves in the echo, only fine threads pulling me in, I find myself under a light brown shimmering roof of spicy tobacco leaf, which sweats small golden pearls of medicinally sweet benzoin. Quiet mantras meander on a harmonium of tonka, the evening amber shimmers like honey into the sun sail of tobacco, even after eleven hours, softly like the distant threads of smoke.
***
A temple for spirits, full of colorful images, shimmering colors, ritual smoke, and a buzzing sitar. A scent that initially did not want to open up to me due to its bulky cool top note and the smoky, hippie-like heart of sandalwood, sweet flowers, and resins, but whose echo never let me go and which, now months later and richer in many scent experiences, has absolutely convinced me.
(With thanks to Seejungfrau and Can777)
I stare at swirling clouds of ice-green smoke, flowing backward into a magical myrrh, strangely drawn in by the gnarled branches that twist like hundreds of hands in all directions of the vast desert. Blinded by flashes of bitter green citrus peels in the rumbling thunderstorm, the high shimmer of herb-sweet sage, in the carnation-like fog of a fireworks display of dark sandy cinnamon leaves, I admire the tree as it warmly spices the frosty clouds, rooted in the earthy smoke of yellow-brown galbanum. Like the beginning of a happy intoxication, the scent of the smoke hits me in the belly and sends me on a
Ride on the Incense Stick
into transcendent memories, blurred time, felt clumps full of soap, knotted by a girl who smells of Nag Champa. I see her dancing in sandalwoods, in flowing colors of sweet flowers that burst into vanilla resins, lingering for many hours. I ride the smoke through walls of warm Washburn guitars, which leave wonderfully soft waves in the hypnotic echo, far out in the room. Sometimes I believe that the scent of forest floor shows itself in there, only to immediately hide again in the slowly rising veils of warm incense.
Tobacco Tantra
As I notice that my incense stick rides on the soft waves in the echo, only fine threads pulling me in, I find myself under a light brown shimmering roof of spicy tobacco leaf, which sweats small golden pearls of medicinally sweet benzoin. Quiet mantras meander on a harmonium of tonka, the evening amber shimmers like honey into the sun sail of tobacco, even after eleven hours, softly like the distant threads of smoke.
***
A temple for spirits, full of colorful images, shimmering colors, ritual smoke, and a buzzing sitar. A scent that initially did not want to open up to me due to its bulky cool top note and the smoky, hippie-like heart of sandalwood, sweet flowers, and resins, but whose echo never let me go and which, now months later and richer in many scent experiences, has absolutely convinced me.
(With thanks to Seejungfrau and Can777)
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31 Comments


Thanks, Floyd, for the opportunity to test it!
Getting lost in your lyrical confusions with delight.
I love the sweaty tobacco roof. And so many other punchlines here.
Filippo creates amazing fragrances. This one is very special.
For me, it was too linear... :)
I don't know it, but I now have a certain idea...