Bold Soul

A sunlit porch in late morning holds a bowl of blackberries that have just been picked. Their juice stains the rim where a piece of cinnamon bark rests beside them. Bold Soul sits in the air around the fruit, its opening bright and edible without becoming a candy. The spice is warm but not heavy, curling through the cool air that moves across the wooden floor.

Tuberose begins to rise as the morning wears on,

Smells similar

Built from the same materials — ranked by how unusual the shared notes are, not by how many.

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