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  Pomegranate Ink Perfume Oil

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  Persephone Perfume Oil

  Daughter of Jove, almighty and divine, come, blessed queen, and to these rites incline:
  Only-begotten, Pluto’s honor’d wife, O venerable Goddess, source of life:
  ‘Tis thine in earth’s profundities to dwell, fast by the wide and dismal gates of hell:
  Jove’s holy offspring, of a beauteous mien, Praxidike, with lovely locks, infernal queen:
  Source of the Eumenides, whose blest frame proceeds from Jove’s ineffable and secret seeds:
  Mother of Eubouleos, Sonorous, divine, and many-form’d, the parent of the vine:
  The dancing Horai attend thee, essence bright, all-ruling virgin, bearing heav’nly light:
  Illustrious, horned, of a bounteous mind, alone desir’d by those of mortal kind.
  O, vernal queen, whom grassy plains delight, sweet to the smell, and pleasing to the sight:
  Whose holy form in budding fruits we view, Earth’s vig’rous offspring of a various hue:
  Espous’d in Autumn: life and death alone to wretched mortals from thy power is known:
  For thine the task according to thy will, life to produce, and all that lives to kill.
  Hear, blessed Goddess, send a rich increase of various fruits from earth, with lovely Peace;
  Send Health with gentle hand, and crown my life with blest abundance, free from noisy strife;
  Last in extreme old age the prey of Death, dismiss we willing to the realms beneath,
  To thy fair palace, and the blissful plains where happy spirits dwell, and Pluto reigns.

  Pomegranate and rose.

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  Wanda Perfume Oil

  “And yet a restless, always unsatisfied craving for the nudity of paganism,” she interrupted, “but that love, which is the highest joy, which is divine simplicity itself, is not for you moderns, you children of reflection. It works only evil in you. As soon as you wish to be natural, you become common. To you nature seems something hostile; you have made devils out of the smiling gods of Greece, and out of me a demon. You can only exorcise and curse me, or slay yourselves in bacchantic madness before my altar. And if ever one of you has had the courage to kiss my red mouth, he makes a barefoot pilgrimage to Rome in penitential robes and expects flowers to grow from his withered staff, while under my feet roses, violets, and myrtles spring up every hour, but their fragrance does not agree with you. Stay among your northern fogs and Christian incense; let us pagans remain under the debris, beneath the lava; do not disinter us. Pompeii was not built for you, nor our villas, our baths, our temples. You do not require gods. We are chilled in your world.”

  Along with Loviatar, she has become something of a Patron Goddess of all Dominatrixes, Wanda is the breathtakingly beautiful sable-wrapped marble queen of Sacher-Masoch’s fantasies. Her scent is a deep red merlot with a faint hint of leather, sexual musk and body heat over crushed roses, violets and myrtle.

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  Pomegranate, Fir Needle, and Cypress Perfume Oil

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