A whole basket of ripe, forbidden fruits tempts both... sweet and sour passion fruit races agains the peach. "You will be like gods," whispers a honey pear, falling from a branch. It's cooled by a fan of blackcurrant leaf. But the appetite only grows; a whole bath full of raspberries beckons with fragrance. "What's immoral here?" the lily of the valley nudges. It improves, freshens, and becomes sweet. "Come to me," whispers vanilla, "I'll hide in your hair." And when patchouli puts on her shoes, the intoxicating heliotrope knocks her down. "It's all aphrodisiacs..." musk and sandalwood, the seducers, flow like a plume, chasing the culprits. Feelings are beyond reason. The most genuine ecstasy.
