
Forbidden Muffin
The buds look baked to perfection: dense and sugar-crusted, blending deep greens and plum hues under a lacquer of ripe trichomes. Split one open and the air swells with blueberry syrup, cherry cordial, and lemon zest over nutty earth. The smoke stays thick and creamy: berries up front, spice and citrus on the finish, with a faint roasted sweetness that clings like memory.
The high moves with indulgent precision. Baking fans describe it as a slow descent wrapped in velvet: first comes the sugar rush; mood lifted, senses tuned, the world humming soft and warm. Then gravity reclaims its hold, easing muscles into stillness and thoughts into syrupy calm. Hunger doesn’t hit like an urge; it unfolds like a ritual, patient and deliberate. Forbidden Muffin doesn’t just end the evening — it seals it shut, soft, sweet, and deeply satisfied.