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Lukullian Borderliner
Is there such a thing as manic-reflexive cannibalism, a narcissistic Jeffrey Dahmer type? Olfactorily dissociative? I would like to eat myself right now, but first I’m going to have a smoke, "Malvs" does it the same way, after all, he smokes too. While I sit on the balcony with him and roll one, I think to myself: "What else can you expect from such a bottle than that it somehow has an occult vibe, no, wrong word, so somehow goes with black magic or something..."
Now we’re sitting here looking over the rooftops, I’m smoking, he’s burning incense and myrrh, grinning a bit with a fresh, mischievous air, and absentmindedly digging in the balcony plant soil, just a little. He leaves his supposedly seductive apple behind with me. As I flick off some ash, I glance briefly into his eyes, they glow melancholic, warm and androgynous, sweet and amber-colored. "Are you ambering me now?" I ask him and feel somehow caught. He says nothing, continues with the incense and myrrh. As the sun sets red over the warm rooftops, I lean against him, he gives off a bit of cedar and starts to sweat sweet resin, while he keeps smoking and suddenly I feel like eating him. This seductive mélange of herbaceous-woody (vetiver and cedar) and smoky-spicy-sweet notes (besides those already mentioned, fine-grained sandalwood and a hint of vanilla are also noticeable), like sweet liqueur mixed with pipe and cigar tobacco, seems to have a direct access to my gustatory perception. I want to taste him, on my tongue. I restrain myself.
For six hours he hypnotizes me, lulls me into a daze, always very close to me, then he lingers in sweet amber and musk for a few more hours before he leaves and I come back to my senses. I am physically unharmed.
Is he too sweet for me? I don’t know, maybe a borderliner. I don’t have to marry him! I live olfactorily promiscuous. Let’s see if he gets to move in with me in the fall!
Now we’re sitting here looking over the rooftops, I’m smoking, he’s burning incense and myrrh, grinning a bit with a fresh, mischievous air, and absentmindedly digging in the balcony plant soil, just a little. He leaves his supposedly seductive apple behind with me. As I flick off some ash, I glance briefly into his eyes, they glow melancholic, warm and androgynous, sweet and amber-colored. "Are you ambering me now?" I ask him and feel somehow caught. He says nothing, continues with the incense and myrrh. As the sun sets red over the warm rooftops, I lean against him, he gives off a bit of cedar and starts to sweat sweet resin, while he keeps smoking and suddenly I feel like eating him. This seductive mélange of herbaceous-woody (vetiver and cedar) and smoky-spicy-sweet notes (besides those already mentioned, fine-grained sandalwood and a hint of vanilla are also noticeable), like sweet liqueur mixed with pipe and cigar tobacco, seems to have a direct access to my gustatory perception. I want to taste him, on my tongue. I restrain myself.
For six hours he hypnotizes me, lulls me into a daze, always very close to me, then he lingers in sweet amber and musk for a few more hours before he leaves and I come back to my senses. I am physically unharmed.
Is he too sweet for me? I don’t know, maybe a borderliner. I don’t have to marry him! I live olfactorily promiscuous. Let’s see if he gets to move in with me in the fall!
23 Comments



Top Notes
Frankincense
Pink pepper
Apple
Heart Notes
Amber
Cedarwood
Myrrh
Base Notes
Gaiac wood
Sandalwood
Vanilla
Musk
Vetiver








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