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09/08/2020
Flioline
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Flioline
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WOA !
WOW !
Woa, what a wild start! The beginning: wallowing in damp leaves!
Rolling on the fur like a happy dog.
Dig, rummage. Splashing! Damp leaves flying.
After a while another layer appears, just below, parallel,
a drier one. Today it is. I want to lie down there too, a little softer now An incredibly physical scent experience creates humus.
He reminds, pressing and wild at first, only, of what?
Run, outside, jump, fall with relish...
This daring phase of childhood. And again and again earth, foliage, foliage, foliage.
A hayloft. An animal too, a friendly one Adventure and security in one.
Eventually, wood. Darker. Thicker. Sanded, old, smooth Table. Bed. No table...
After a while the table at my place will turn into a whole hunting lodge And the fragrance grows up, now has dignity, no, nobility.
Goes silent.
I don't know how he does it then, to be so cool and at the same time have a cosy, glowing open fireplace in mind.
Perhaps because the petrichor still swings out happily, while oak moss on oud and vetiver sit down with rum in leather, surrounded by a rose.
Then suddenly it gets even quieter.
Pictureless clear.
Great.
At the very end, a cloud that... oh no;
i'm not telling you that
And again I have found such a smell (like recently Odin's Tanoke 07 and Danza Armenia, the latter also from the smart Michele Bianchi), which I don't really want to smell, but which I want to smell.
Invitations to be alone. Wonderful
Sillage? I don't care; there's nobody else here Durability? I lost track of time.
Woa, what a wild start! The beginning: wallowing in damp leaves!
Rolling on the fur like a happy dog.
Dig, rummage. Splashing! Damp leaves flying.
After a while another layer appears, just below, parallel,
a drier one. Today it is. I want to lie down there too, a little softer now An incredibly physical scent experience creates humus.
He reminds, pressing and wild at first, only, of what?
Run, outside, jump, fall with relish...
This daring phase of childhood. And again and again earth, foliage, foliage, foliage.
A hayloft. An animal too, a friendly one Adventure and security in one.
Eventually, wood. Darker. Thicker. Sanded, old, smooth Table. Bed. No table...
After a while the table at my place will turn into a whole hunting lodge And the fragrance grows up, now has dignity, no, nobility.
Goes silent.
I don't know how he does it then, to be so cool and at the same time have a cosy, glowing open fireplace in mind.
Perhaps because the petrichor still swings out happily, while oak moss on oud and vetiver sit down with rum in leather, surrounded by a rose.
Then suddenly it gets even quieter.
Pictureless clear.
Great.
At the very end, a cloud that... oh no;
i'm not telling you that
And again I have found such a smell (like recently Odin's Tanoke 07 and Danza Armenia, the latter also from the smart Michele Bianchi), which I don't really want to smell, but which I want to smell.
Invitations to be alone. Wonderful
Sillage? I don't care; there's nobody else here Durability? I lost track of time.
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