incense! incense! my kingdoom for an incense! | Basenotes

incense! incense! my kingdoom for an incense!

Hi all fellow beautiful creatures of the night
I look at you, it's at you I come in front of your devotee shrine and I humbly again ask for directions
be my muse, be my guide, be my prophets

for I am lost, I am lost in the Labyrinth and the Beast is behind me, ever smelling like the foul creature he is
ever chasing down the corners of this dark antique building

Let's begin like true greek choruses
First the Actors

The Minotaur: deep buriend inside my memories there is a dark obscure smell, animalistic and tribal yet wonderful and elegant. long time gone is M7 and all the woody eleusine mysteries that came after it. Now the beast smells of Cuir de Molinard and I am scared. He's too manly now, now that I have abandoned the flesh and the fur to groom more sophisticated realms, now that I have passed the first rooms filled with cypress and labdanum and I find myself in a sequence of magical ordeals based on alcaloids and synthetics and a modern future to come.

Ariadne: There she stand, dark mysterious distant but present, I have her thread in my hand, it's blu like a starry night, it's soft like silk but twice as seductive. She is tall over me, her shoulders in the sky, her skin smells of oceans and salt but then of things done in private, near the skin, things of devotion. As this time is long gone too, I must say goodbye to her ethereal beautiful Molecules I must forget her Cor4nol vibes and try to recover from the intoxication. Her priest still smell of Full Incense and they are at the end of the labyrinth, I can see them. But they are just but a pure background to the search

The Thread: Here you are. I look at you, my next me. I have you in my mind and in my hands and you smeel fresh yet suble, you smell technical yet antique. I see at you like in 7 for Men with your balsam for my unresting soul, with your persisent embrace which seems so blue and distand yet so dear to the skin, so intimate
in a word

The Prologue:

I want to be new
as perfumes are myths
I want to be a new myth
I delved strongly in the woods of my frankincense
I won't be able to leave that
but I saw the possibilities of this new skin
while waring Kyoto for so much time
but now it's time for something deeper
I look at benzoin
I look at you chemicals, trying to recreate life

I need a new Incense
I need a new God or Goddess

I need to be the silent priest of a new fresher dark night
where the sky is blue and distant
but the winds carry on the forests

I remain on my knees waiting for a response
as the Ones That Came Before now start to speak

(p.s. please forgive me. i must ask for not too expensive stuff as I am poor and the money i had is gone. my offering will be small.
also forgive the style. as perfumes are labyrinths in which we get lost, I couldn't resist the temptation.
long live the Stories, long live the Myths ♥

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