my cats head— so warm and toasty.

I was twelve when my best friend visited New Orleans - this would have been a two day drive in the pale yellow Cadillac (with fin tails to give you a hint of the era). An adventure to the big city. On return she presented me with a tiny bottle that i’d imagined came from a secret backstreet distillery. I locked my bedroom door and sink to the floor unscrewing the top to inhale. Breathing in what smelt sweet and floral and like the future.

marlboro golds and a negroni. wood and fresh linen in the cotswolds. warm skin and a bit of sweat and a bit of lavender? idk i miss him.

Mint and rum and tobacco, new mexico lace and an older lover.

Musk, immortelle, vanille