Vetiver from Haiti, chestnut cream, olive leaves, myrrh, vanilla, opoponax.
His beauty would have been his greatest asset. One imagines he was raised in the big air of Texas, his soft skin scrubbed by ears of wheat, his eyelashes curled by grappling with grace against a blinding sun. A Midnight Cowboy lost on city asphalt.
A fisherman without a line, he was made to be hooked by others, to believe in his fate without knowing it, to wreak havoc and forget it over time. Youth for women-of-a-certain-age, stock for late-night parties, a partner to accompany the wealthy of Palm Beach on nature walks, his splendor is consumed in the service of others. Now, a Fat Electrician in New Jersey, his talent depleted in his sexual decline. This is the curse of beauty — it doesn’t last.