Tolu Balsam

  • A vintage-looking photograph of an old-fashioned pen and inkwell with text reading "Letters to a Nasturtium A Lover Muses"

    Lines to a Nasturtium (A Lover Muses) Perfume Oil

    Anne Spencer

    Flame-flower, Day-torch, Mauna Loa,
    I saw a daring bee, today, pause, and soar,
    Into your flaming heart;
    Then did I hear crisp, crinkled laughter
    As the furies after tore him apart?
    A bird, next, small and humming,
    Looked into your startled depths and fled…
    Surely, some dread sight, and dafter
    Than human eyes as mine can see,
    Set the stricken air waves drumming
    In his flight.
     
    Day-torch, Flame-flower, cool-hot Beauty,
    I cannot see, I cannot hear your flutey;
    Voice lure your loving swain,
    But I know one other to whom you are in beauty
    Born in vain:
    Hair like the setting sun,
    Her eyes a rising star,
    Motions gracious as reeds by Babylon, bar
    All your competing;
    Hands like, how like, brown lilies sweet,
    Cloth of gold were fair enough to touch her feet.
    Ah, how the sense reels at my repeating,
    As once in her fire-lit heart I felt the furies
    Beating, beating.
     
    Hair like the setting sun, eyes a rising star, and a heart fire-lit: golden amber, warm nutmeg, cardamom pod, tolu balsam, sweet patchouli, vanilla absolute, wildflower honey, lovage root, and cacao.

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  • SUPERSTITION

    Superstition Perfume Oil

    Everton Sainsbury

    Dusty leather, a hand-worn blackthorn staff, frankincense resin, tolu balsam, wild grasses, and medicinal roots.

    Out of Stock
  • The Harpy Celaeno Perfume Oil

    The unicorn began to walk toward the harpy’s cage. Schmendrick the Magician, tiny and pale, kept opening and closing his mouth at her, and she knew what he was shrieking, though she could not hear him. “She will kill you, she will kill you! Run, you fool, while she’s still a prisoner! She will kill you if you set her free!” But the unicorn walked on, following the light of her horn, until she stood before Celaeno, the Dark One.

    For an instant the icy wings hung silent in the air, like clouds, and the harpy’s old yellow eyes sank into the unicorn’s heart and drew her close. “I will kill you if you set me free,” the eyes said. “Set me free.” 

    The unicorn lowered her head until her horn touched the lock of the harpy’s cage. The door did not swing open, and the iron bars did not thaw into starlight. But the harpy lifted her wings, and the four sides of the cage fell slowly away and down, like the petals of some great flower waking at night. And out of the wreckage the harpy bloomed, terrible and free, screaming, her hair swinging like a sword. The moon withered and fled. 

    The unicorn heard herself cry out, not in terror but in wonder, “Oh, you are like me!” She reared joyously to meet the harpy’s stoop, and her horn leaped up into the wicked wind. The harpy struck once, missed, and swung away, her wings clanging and her breath warm and stinking. She burned overhead, and the unicorn saw herself reflected on the harpy’s bronze breast and felt the monster shining from her own body. So they circled one another like a double star, and under the shrunken sky there was nothing real but the two of them. The harpy laughed with delight, and her eyes turned the color of honey. The unicorn knew that she was going to strike again. 

    Clanging metal, smouldering hatred, and terror: vetiver, myrrh, patchouli, tolu balsam, black clove, bergamot, orange flower, and horseradish.

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