Ginny, The Reaper of Vengeance Perfume OilAdd to cart
Sharp tobacco flower and white cognac, a thin layer of smoke, and dusty black pepper pierced by the amber of her eyes.
Horreur Sympathique Perfume OilSelect Options
From livid skies that, without end,
As stormy as your future roll,
What thoughts into your empty soul
(Answer me, libertine!) descend?
– Insatiable yet for all
That turns on darkness, doom, or dice,
I’ll not, like Ovid, mourn my fall,
Chased from the Latin paradise.
Skies, torn like seacoasts by the storm!
In you I see my pride take form,
And the huge clouds that rush in streams
Are the black hearses of my dreams,
And your red rays reflect the hell,
In which my heart is pleased to dwell.
The perfume of a hellbound soul, gleefully lost to iniquity: blood musk, golden honey, thick black wine, champagne grapes, tobacco flower, plum blossom, tonka bean, oakmoss, carnation, benzoin, opoponax, and sugar cane.
New Mown Hay, Tobacco Flower, and Cassia Perfume OilOut of Stock
Prospering In Golden Hope Perfume OilAdd to cart
White peach, bergamot, orchid petals, tobacco flower, frankincense, and white amber.
Sea-Cucumber Ring, Jewel Balls, Small Dildo Perfume OilAdd to cart
Tobacco flower, hay absolute, lemon peel, brown leather accord, amber saffron, black pepper, and magnolia blossom.
To a Wreath of Snow Perfume OilAdd to cart
O transient voyager of heaven!
O silent sign of winter skies!
What adverse wind thy sail has driven
To dungeons where a prisoner lies?
Methinks the hands that shut the sun
So sternly from this mourning brow
Might still their rebel task have done
And checked a thing so frail as thou
They would have done it had they known
The talisman that dwelt in thee,
For all the suns that ever shone
Have never been so kind to me!
For many a week, and many a day
My heart was weighed with sinking gloom
When morning rose in mourning grey
And faintly lit my prison room
But angel like, when I awoke,
Thy silvery form so soft and fair
Shining through darkness, sweetly spoke
Of cloudy skies and mountains bare
The dearest to a mountaineer
Who, all life long has loved the snow
That crowned her native summits drear,
Better, than greenest plains below –
And voiceless, soulless messenger
Thy presence waked a thrilling tone
That comforts me while thou art here
And will sustain when thou art gone
– Emily Brontë
Morning rising in mourning grey: tobacco flower, white oud, lavender bud, and ambergris accord.