|T he perfume bottle|
| Top note
| Without love, The sky is blurry. Dark like there is a purple perfume bottle in between.
Without almost touching the hair, life is fragile like fireworks in a dream
My cheeks became blue after death Being ash seared by fire in hell,
and became a drop of blood. After that, I never forget the growing love
This soul is a slave and this body is a puppet. I want to see love.
I want to die in love in a heart burning fire. I have a sweet pain.
Madame de pompadour
|Molinard||Château de Versailles Grasse||Fragonard|