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  Apple Cider Marshmallows Hair Gloss

  That’s right, we added squished apples to marshmallows in pursuit of maximum squishiness. Give us the Nobel Prize already! You can squish the resulting concoction directly into your hairs: pillowy marshmallow fluff infused with a cidery sparkle.

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  Argento Sunrise Perfume Oil

  A poem for the vital and visceral shadow self.

   

  A pulsating, vibrant blend of king mandarin, lemon peel, and tangerine splashed into a smear of red musk and chianti.

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  Kubla Khan Perfume Oil

  In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
  A stately pleasure-dome decree:
  Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
  Through caverns measureless to man
  Down to a sunless sea.

  So twice five miles of fertile ground
  With walls and towers were girdled round:
  And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
  Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;
  And here were forests ancient as the hills,
  Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.
  But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
  Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover!
  A savage place! as holy and enchanted
  As e’er beneath a waning moon was haunted
  By woman wailing for her demon-lover!
  And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
  As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
  A mighty fountain momently was forced:
  Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
  Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
  Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher’s flail:
  And ‘mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
  It flung up momently the sacred river.
  Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
  Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
  Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
  And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean:
  And ‘mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
  Ancestral voices prophesying war!

  The shadow of the dome of pleasure
  Floated midway on the waves;
  Where was heard the mingled measure
  From the fountain and the caves.
  It was a miracle of rare device,
  A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!

  A damsel with a dulcimer
  In a vision once I saw:
  It was an Abyssinian maid,
  And on her dulcimer she played,
  Singing of Mount Abora.
  Could I revive within me
  Her symphony and song,
  To such a deep delight ‘twould win me
  That with music loud and long
  I would build that dome in air,
  That sunny dome! those caves of ice!
  And all who heard should see them there,
  And all should cry, Beware! Beware!
  His flashing eyes, his floating hair!
  Weave a circle round him thrice,
  And close your eyes with holy dread,
  For he on honey-dew hath fed
  And drunk the milk of Paradise.

  Through sunlit caves of ice, roses unfurl amidst dancing waves of serpentine opium smoke and amber tobacco, golden sandalwood, champaca, tea leaf, sugared lily, ginger, rich hay absolute, leather, dark vanilla, mandarin, peru balsam, and Moroccan jasmine.

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  On Eating & Drinking Perfume Oil

  Would that you could live on the fragrance of the earth, and like an air plant be sustained by the light.
  But since you must kill to eat, and rob the newly born of its mother’s milk to quench your thirst, let it then be an act of worship,
  And let your board stand an altar on which the pure and the innocent of forest and plain are sacrificed for that which is purer and still more innocent in man.
  
  When you kill a beast say to him in your heart,
  “By the same power that slays you, I too am slain; and I too shall be consumed. For the law that delivered you into my hand shall deliver me into a mightier hand.
  Your blood and my blood is naught but the sap that feeds the tree of heaven.”
  
  And when you crush an apple with your teeth, say to it in your heart,
  “Your seeds shall live in my body,
  And the buds of your tomorrow shall blossom in my heart,
  And your fragrance shall be my breath, And together we shall rejoice through all the seasons.”
  
  And in the autumn, when you gather the grapes of your vineyards for the winepress, say in your heart,
  “I too am a vineyard, and my fruit shall be gathered for the winepress,
  And like new wine I shall be kept in eternal vessels.”
  And in winter, when you draw the wine, let there be in your heart a song for each cup;
  And let there be in the song a remembrance for the autumn days, and for the vineyard, and for the winepress.
  
  Purple fig, honeyed dates, sweet red wine, and apples.

  The sales from February, March, and May’s scents from the Prophet series (On Giving, On Eating & Drinking, On Work, On Joy & Sorrow, On Buying and Selling, and On Crime and Punishment) benefit the ACLU because we are in desperate need of civil rights protections right now. The Take Action area of their website presents handy opportunities for speaking out against current and ongoing injustices, even if you only have a few minutes to spare.

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