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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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  The Silver Stream Perfume Oil

  The boy with the dirty face stood up and hugged Coraline tightly. “Take comfort in this,” he whispered. “Th’art alive. Thou livest.”

  And in her dream Coraline saw that the sun had set and the stars were twinkling in the darkening sky.

  Coraline stood in the meadow, and she watched as the three children (two of them walking, one flying) went away from her across the grass, silver in the light of the huge moon.

  The three of them came to a small wooden bridge over a stream. They stopped there and turned and waved, and Coraline waved back.

  And what came after was darkness.

  Bittersweet: the scent of forgetfulness, peace, and oblivion. Like asphodel petals on moonlit water.

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  Fuck This Heat Perfume Oil

  What global warming? Slivers of ice to cool things down, lavender and hops flower to soothe the nerves.

  Proceeds benefit getting the goddamn AC fixed in the front parlor at BPAL so Teddy and Claire don’t sweat to death and we don’t roast people alive at Lunacy.

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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.

  Out of Stock