Within every bottle lies a garden long abandoned,
petals falling soft onto forgotten letters,
sorrows stitched in velvet and lace.

☾ Trace the fragrance along your skin — wrists, throat, and heart — as if writing a letter no hands will ever hold.
☾ Let the scent awaken the hollow rooms within you.
☾ Breathe in the mourning flowers, the heavy night, the lingering kiss of ghosts.

You are the reliquary now —
the keeper of memory, scent, and sorrow.