Flowerbomb

This scent exhales like a moonlit garden in decay. It begins with a cold, citrus frost—bergamot laced with a haunted green tea that whispers through the leaves. At its heart, a ghostly bouquet of Sambac jasmine and centifolia rose blooms with a sickly-sweet perfume, freesia’s brittle petals quivering beside the spectral, waxen Cattleya orchid. Beneath the blossoms, a warm, shadowed undercurrent crawls: musk and sandalwood wrapped in a slow, resinous embrace, while minty patchouli curls like breathing fog across a forgotten grave. This is floral beauty turned nocturne—elegant, unsettling, and deliciously doomed.