a hemisphere in your hair



i've been embedding my cat calls into some poetic stanzas and am researching the scents according to some free-associations i've done with each cat call, very encouraged about the direction

here's one poem i sampled:

after a hemisphere in your hair by baudelaire

nice hair. let my hand toy with it 
as with a fragrant hankerchief, that i may shake out memories
i didn't see a ring on that finger when i bit your
elastic and rebellious hair, 
it seems that i am eating memories
shit
in the glowing depths of your hair 
i inhale the odor of tobacco mixed with that of opium and sugar
beautiful
in the downy recesses of your hair, i intoxicate myself
with the odors of musk and coconut


and i'm coveting these little mokins perfume bottles circa around 1900 i think. i wonder if a glass blower would be able to replicate these? wouldn't that be amazing






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