I love the purity of perfume and their wordless stories
Their condensed intensity and shameless, nameless personalities
Encompassing contradictions, voicing conflicts harmoniously
The way perfume develops with time, grows and blossoms
The way in which it captures a moment in time and imprisons it in a vial.
Rows and rows of vials for each moment exhaled by internal universes only to be inhaled by the external one.
I encapsulate in a bottle all that there is to say. The risk of spillage is unknown to me. Some things are better spilled than spoil in prolonged fermentation in the darkness within.
I love perfumes.
Their song is endless beauty that fades into the air
Their momentarity makes them even more so beautiful