Scentwolf

I want no ordinary lover. I want a fucking storm.
I want sleepless nights and endless conversations at 4 a.m.
I want passion. I want madness.

Your life is reorganizing. Previous things no longer work. Contacts dissolve, relationships end. Only what is real and true remains. It's frighteningly little. Maybe it's a good thing, maybe it's time to let go of the old so that the new can come. The time span in between hurts. Must hurt. Must be lived through, suffered through, endured. You will grow.

Écrin de fumée is warm cinnamon encouragement. The rum gives strength, tobacco leaves provide aroma. Subtle smokiness pushes unisex towards masculine elegance. The fact that Serge Lutens only lists three ingredients should be seen as an understatement. It cannot be meant seriously. This fragrance is too rich and too dense for that. Whatever else is in there, it blends in perfectly. Nothing is too quiet or too loud here. Nothing is missing, nothing is too much. All the notes follow an orchestration reminiscent of Nicolai. Masterful.

A maelstrom. Quicksand of emotions. It pulls you in. You don't want it any other way.
The varnish of your previous life shows cracks. You recognize yourself - you don't recognize yourself. Long-hidden things finally show themselves (again). Premonitions become certainty, fulfillment becomes a promise.

Which doors will open?
Pulse. Vibrancy. Pulse. New territory. Pulse. Relaxed turmoil. Pulse.
Mariana tomb deep trust...
Push the button!!!

"All woman" you had said.
I am ready!

For K.