Eau de Parfum

As the dazzling emerald galbanum mingles with the delicate flesh of bergamot, Dryad's nomadic wanderings begin.

Under the jade canopies, the herbaceously sweet narcissus intertwines with the golden daffodil. An apricot and citron shadow transforms radiant green into a soft golden glow.

Anchored in the ocher roots of benzoin, the intoxicating oakmoss blends with the deep nuances of vetiver.

And at its heart, the smooth skin of the Costus invites you to slip deeper into the forest...

THE PERFUMER’S INSPIRATION

« Installed in silence. I don't speak words, but my eyelashes blink fluently in the language of birds. My fingers touch the glittery dialect of the flora, my skin, bathed in sunlight, flows gently with the fauna. The whispers of the reeds steal the sounds of the wind. Is the weight of my tongue often deplored? Or the vetiver ash that rests in my lungs? Without words in the woods, my senses can sing. Sound is not necessary to speak from within. I press my soft flesh against the bark in the golden evening twilight, to breathe in the deep hues of a satyr's musk. My body is swollen with the roots and seeds of the oak. Our veins and vines weave together with ease, And while your chatter dissipates to the rustling of our leaves, You bring your ear to our chest, to hear the murmur of the trees. We do not rise into your throat, your mouth, or your teeth. But we streaked streams of color intended to dazzle. When your eyes close in the chaos of our intoxicating wood, and heavy with pain in the spectrum of colors you have found, I hold you close. Ignores tingling sensations and muffles sounds. Beneath the darkness of your eyelids, our damp forest floor rises. The lilac of lavender soothes fading eyesight. The essence of our perfume impregnated with bodily sap Rises above the oak beams, drenched in silk, in silvery light. I support the deer sweet of an apricot sheath against your lips. The sweetness contrasts with the bitterness of the narcissus. Head bowed, enchanted, you take your first breath, with the texture of touch I guide you, devoid of sight and sound, but with the golden dew on your skin, each of your wrinkled pores unravels, and the forest infiltrate. I watch the damp emerald moss survive the sun, I catch the polished, bronzed leaves that fall from each stem. As I reside in the canopy, I brush the saplings under the starlight, And I sprinkle golden galbanum through the twilight of the glen. From fall to summer, from winter to spring, I shine. The branches and the arch are open. The changing of the seasons marks the rhythm of the sun. Each color prints petal marks to rest on your chest; it is spotted with wolf's blood and the shine of a deer's tongue. Roses creep around my ankles, bergamot blooms, clary sage surrounds you with swirling smoke, and here, in my tree, I watch you awaken; I do not hide behind the trunk or the stem. So dance with the Dryads, drink all you have taken, Become blind, deaf and drunk in the pearl of the valley. Whisper so sweet, your breath on my neck without words, Inspire the arc of my tree. What are words in a wilderness? keep your lamentations. I weave voices and songs with the power of perfume. My touch elevates you to the heights of nature's true value, and I pronounce each word, with the scent of the earth. © Jasmine Moores and Papillon Perfumery« 

Head notes : Cornflower, Clary sage, Tarragon, Citron, Bitter orange, Thyme, Bergamot
Heart Notes : Narcissus, Orris root, Orange blossom, Costus, Apricot, Lavender
Base Notes : Oakmoss, Vetiver, Benzoin, Styrax, Peruvian Beaumier