Ceci n’est pas un flacon bleu 1.6

Green souls fall in love in the shade of Citrus trees. Your laughter exhales a song of Yuzu zests and my kisses flutter, white, like petals of Neroli – as they rest on your Grapefruit lips. Red. The pulp of my fingers run along your Jasmine neck, I drink the blue seas of your eyes and the smell of your smiles. There is a heat, a whiff of Vanilla, of two bodies entwined in a shape of White Musks. Hypnotic Lotus and dilated pupils, there comes from my fingers like a moan of Geranium, a desire to taste you like a sip of Orange juice. Green. I waft towards you on the wings of your skin-of-clouds. “Words do not lie”. There is no end to me.

This is a blue planet, juicy like an Orange whence Lotus and Orange Blossom spring like seaspray. A haze of White Musks and tropics of Neroli shape a continent of Vanilla deserts.