lidia60

At first: danger. Rum. Gasoline. Pain. Dirty. Too much. One hour later: loud. Chaotic. Too many voices. Like an opera. Five hours later: beautiful. The dirt and gasoline are gone. Only flowers remain. They were never burned. Just touched by the possibility. At the end: a whisper. The story of surviving. Beauty still there, untouched by those who tried to ruin it.

Beautiful and fragile scent of innocence and youth. Gritti has a little too much of sweetness but this one is moderate. Flower that is not fully opened yet...

Compliment I got from friends - you smell like a mix of vanilla tobacco, Marlboro Blue and a lustful evening in a cheap cabaret

Nice strawberry that is closer to artificially grown rather than strawberry that got it's flavor from sun and soil beneath. A little bit boring but sweet, suits well woman that hasn't been betrayed yet.