“Le beau c’est toujours bizarre” [Beauty is strange.]

-Charles Baudelaire,Les Fleurs du Mal

There is something quite wicked about this perfume. There is a speck of creosote about it but that could be interpreted as a very fancy library as well. Parts of this smell like burning sage, and there is sage in it but how was it set on fire? Passion? There is something very appealing and familiar about it that can’t be named. Sage and a papery essence which tempers the sage and makes it less sharp, a bit of lime, a cast of honey, a fist full of sea salt to represent tears.