perfume riddle V
Behold, a venerable and dangerous bottle of perfume is riddling. Who will be the first to name her true name? You should search for me in your dreams: Morpheus is my father, he who pushes at the seams of your consciousness when you are asleep or perhaps when you’re under my red sway so deep. Sunk in your couch, or on a Chinese bed while visions of courtesans dance through your head, inhale me and transport yourself to a land where the texture of silk brocade smooth on your hand Reassures you when you feel you’ve flown too far on the wings of my namesake, floral bliss in a jar; remember the poppies that made me, the resin so sticky and black and heavy as Heaven and know me, for I am more than iconic the scent of the 70’s, I know its ironic, for nobody used me all that much, they’d all moved on to a heavier touch but I represented a golden time long gone by when respectable gents visited dens to get high and lounged in a state