{"title":"poudre impériale n°1","description":"\u003cp style=\"text-align: center;\"\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; text-decoration: none; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: rgb(0, 0, 0);\"\u003e\u003c\/span\u003e\u003cspan style=\"font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: auto; text-align: start; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px; -webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; text-decoration: none; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: rgb(0, 0, 0);\"\u003e\u003c\/span\u003e\u003cspan\u003eI pondered, thought, do I use GPT's might?\u003cbr\u003eIt won't show, it fits, it's discreet, Under the Coat,\u003cbr\u003e(Sous le Manteau), just right.\u003cbr\u003eIt fits for sure, but not on the skin.\u003cbr\u003eBefore your eyes, imperial powder, the ship and its kin.\u003cbr\u003eDrunk on the waves, it sails through the soul, beneath a crescent moon's glow,\u003cbr\u003eFleeing the blade, it cleaves the sea, with sails a flow.\u003cbr\u003eFar-off horizons, in acrylic hues, fuchsia incense, our Almaty jasmines, so sweet,\u003cbr\u003eWe write deep within as we sail, with heart's blood, in full beat.\u003cbr\u003eThere's only the fragrance, ladies and gentlemen, that clings to the skin,\u003cbr\u003eUnder the Coat, it weaves its tale, a scent of pure sin.\u003cbr\u003eHe stands before me, I scrutinize, he stares back,\u003cbr\u003eEye for an eye, he's no wise soul, no lack.\u003cbr\u003eImperial powder, his adornment grand,\u003cbr\u003eHis spirit under caress, then, a bite so planned.\u003cbr\u003eHe spews this bottle, he spews his cloud, his poison,\u003cbr\u003eHeliotrope in the tropics, this dragon, a surreal liaison.The only fortune of this king, I think, with pleasure,\u003cbr\u003eTo raise his realm higher, my soul's own treasure.\u003cbr\u003eThe secret of the cylinder, its power, its spiciness,\u003cbr\u003eIt's his fuchsia pepper, its fiery finesse.\u003cbr\u003eFrom folds to shores, on my neck, his sensual bloom,\u003cbr\u003eBeneath the cloak, behold it, he conquers, an essential plume.\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e","products":[],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0644\/3060\/4357\/collections\/KseniyaKurs_SLM_2025_DSCF8792_1.jpg?v=1744132172","url":"https:\/\/slm.paris\/collections\/poudre-imperiale-n-1.oembed","provider":"sous le manteau","version":"1.0","type":"link"}