The Liturgies of the Hours An ancient Roman chapel in the south of Italy or a monastery lost in the scented hills of Greece... here, the tempo It doesn't matter. There is only eternity. On the cold stone slabs, their enamel worn away by the centuries, the burning caress of the Mediterranean summer exalts an infinite, almost sacred love. Suspended in the air is a scent of mysticism and mystery that fa to shine through una Passionate, almost violent, lust. Unmistakable aromas of incense, frankincense, and myrrh sublimate this impetuous passion. Nose: Jacques Flori
OneBioShop IE