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  Seth Perfume Oil

  Sudanese myrrh, papyrus, champaca flower, black lotus, amber, and honeyed leather.

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  Tiresias, The Androgyne Perfume Oil

  Upon the next stage, a spotlight is focused on a mammoth bronze sculpture of two snakes entwined. Their bodies are wrapped around each other in an intimate embrace, and their tongues touch suggestively. The deep, somber boom of a standing bass leads into a twelve-string guitar’s plaintive moan, and as the music swells, a stunning, statuesque woman steps out from behind the statue, her fierce and regal face in profile. The spotlight dims to a deep amber-red, and shines a dark, sanguine light onto her, tinting her long, wild hair the color of blood. She sings:

  Sunday is gloomy, my hours are slumberless.
  Dearest, the shadows I live with are numberless.
  Little white flowers will never awaken you,
  Not where the black coach of sorrow has taken you.
  Angels have no thought of ever returning you.
  Would they be angry if I thought of joining you?
  Gloomy Sunday.

  She turns, and abruptly faces left. Her features are coarser, more masculine, and you notice the rough, dusky shadow of an evening beard on the singer’s face. On this side, the hair is cropped short, and as s/he sighs and begins the next verse, you hear the voice deepen to a weathered, sorrowful baritone.

  Gloomy is Sunday; with shadows I spend it all.
  My heart and I have decided to end it all.
  Soon there’ll be candles and prayers that are sad, I know.
  Death is no dream, for in death I’m caressing you.
  With the last breath of my soul I’ll be blessing you.
  Gloomy Sunday.

  The singer turns to face the audience, and your senses reel. On the left side, the features are sharp, but feminine. You can see the curve of her breast, the soft fullness of her hips, the arch of her fine brow. On the right, it is the body of an Adonis, muscular and commanding. You see that a thick seam runs down the center of the body, stitched roughly.

  Though the vision is disconcerting, the warmth and passion in the singer’s voice swells inside your heart, and you are spellbound. Enraptured, you realize that though the gender is opposed on either side, one soul binds the whole.

  Dark, moody, and bittersweet: black currant, patchouli, tobacco, cinnamon leaf, caramel, muguet, and red sandalwood.

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• 

  Gula Bath Oil

  Please note all bath oils are 4oz

  Cocoa absolute, sugar cane, honey, black currant, vanilla, and caramel.

  It is the just doom of laziness and gluttony to be inactive without ease and drowsy without tranquility. — Samuel Johnson

  4oz Bottle

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• 

  Le Lèthè Perfume Oil

  Viens sur mon coeur, âme cruelle et sourde,
  Tigre adoré, monstre aux airs indolents;
  Je veux longtemps plonger mes doigts tremblants
  Dans l’épaisseur de ta crinière lourde;

  Dans tes jupons remplis de ton parfum
  Ensevelir ma tête endolorie,
  Et respirer, comme une fleur flétrie,
  Le doux relent de mon amour défunt.

  Je veux dormir! dormir plutôt que vivre!
  Dans un sommeil aussi doux que la mort,
  J’étalerai mes baisers sans remords
  Sur ton beau corps poli comme le cuivre.

  Pour engloutir mes sanglots apaisés
  Rien ne me vaut l’abîme de ta couche;
  L’oubli puissant habite sur ta bouche,
  Et le Léthé coule dans tes baisers.

  À mon destin, désormais mon délice,
  J’obéirai comme un prédestiné;
  Martyr docile, innocent condamné,
  Dont la ferveur attise le supplice,

  Je sucerai, pour noyer ma rancoeur,
  Le népenthès et la bonne ciguë
  Aux bouts charmants de cette gorge aiguë
  Qui n’a jamais emprisonné de coeur.

  – – –

  Come, lie upon my breast, cruel, insensitive soul,
  Adored tigress, monster with the indolent air;
  I want to plunge trembling fingers for a long time
  In the thickness of your heavy mane,

  To bury my head, full of pain
  In your skirts redolent of your perfume,
  To inhale, as from a withered flower,
  The moldy sweetness of my defunct love.

  I wish to sleep! to sleep rather than live!
  In a slumber doubtful as death,
  I shall remorselessly cover with my kisses
  Your lovely body polished like copper.

  To bury my subdued sobbing
  Nothing equals the abyss of your bed,
  Potent oblivion dwells upon your lips
  And Lethe flows in your kisses.

  My fate, hereafter my delight,
  I’ll obey like one predestined;
  Docile martyr, innocent man condemned,
  Whose fervor aggravates the punishment.

  I shall suck, to drown my rancor,
  Nepenthe and the good hemlock
  From the charming tips of those pointed breasts
  That have never guarded a heart.

  Red musk and sweat-damp golden skin musk with labdanum, golden amber, nutmeg, tobacco absolute, black orchid, and hemlock accord.

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