The definition of True Love: Some have known it, others have not yet experienced it, but all are waiting or looking for it. It will come.
“I often have this strange, penetrating dream,” we whisper in the warm, enveloping arms of benzoin and davana.
Words fail us, but souls speak to each other transparently.
Our ancient hearts find their way back to each other. The first morning of buttered bread and orange blossom, tasted in the laurels of the day before.
We soar in an intoxication of the depths of feeling, still haloed by Rum, infused with Vanilla and Cocoa. Full of the body you want to devour.
On the pillow, we leave our signature, the bare-skin effect of orcanox, the negligee of amber woods and patchouli. We’ll meet again tonight, tomorrow or in another life.
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