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A fuzzy black scent flittering in bittersweet shadows: 11-year aged patchouli, dried blackcurrant, wooly tonka bean, tobacco absolute, toasted vetiver, and a sprinkling of sugar crystals.

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A chiaroscuro of earthy depth and hallucinatory sweetness, Bat Moth is the ecstatic fever dream intricacies of a Victorian fairy painter's tiny fae revelers, filtered through Silky Bat's sugar-spun patchouli charms. Or perhaps replace all the fairies in this frenzied vision with a wondrous delirium of bats: a warm-woody-fuzzy-fleecy chiropteran cloud of musk, beady black-jellied eyes, leathery-resinous flitterings in a dizzying expanse of sweetly dewy night air. For all the frenetic moonrise mania as the scent begins its evening's flight, its midnight repose is a softly patchoulified haze, a velvet brown sugar nocturne, a drowsy incantation, a dissolving reverie.

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This is fuzzy. And cozy. And sweet. And it all lies SOFTLY on a bed of sweet light patchouli. It's not very patch forward at all. Light is the keyword like a moth. It's like a little moth alighted on your arm and left the sweetest lil cute scent on your arm and then fluttered off. It's a bit too pretty for me. I like a grittier Patchouli as I've come to realize. However, it is gorgeous. 

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