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Weight | 1 oz |
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O lips full of lust and of laughter,
Curled snakes that are fed from my breast,
Bite hard, lest remembrance come after
And press with new lips where you pressed.
Red musk, wildflower honey, elemi, tangerine, and mint.
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Weight | 1 oz |
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`I never saw anybody that looked stupider,’ a Violet said, so suddenly, that Alice quite jumped; for it hadn’t spoken before.
`Hold your tongue!’ cried the Tiger-lily. `As if you ever saw anybody! You keep your head under the leaves, and snore away there, till you know no more what’s going on in the world, that if you were a bud!’
`Are there any more people in the garden besides me?’ Alice said, not choosing to notice the Rose’s last remark.
`There’s one other flower in the garden that can move about like you,’ said the Rose. `I wonder how you do it — ‘ (`You’re always wondering,’ said the Tiger-lily), `but she’s more bushy than you are.’
`Is she like me?’ Alice asked eagerly, for the thought crossed her mind, `There’s another little girl in the garden, somewhere!’
`Well, she has the same awkward shape as you,’ the Rose said, `but she’s redder — and her petals are shorter, I think.’
`Her petals are done up close, almost like a dahlia,’ the Tiger-lily interrupted: `not tumbled about anyhow, like yours.’
`But that’s not your fault,’ the Rose added kindly: `you’re beginning to fade, you know — and then one can’t help one’s petals getting a little untidy.’
Violet petal, violet leaf, osmanthus, orris, mint, and opoponax.
Inspired by the character EPPY THATCHER.
A futuristic, gothic harlequin, addicted to a heinous hallucinogen with the street name “Grendel”, who leads chaotic attacks against the corrupt Catholic Church.
Psychotomimetic: pink grapefruit, white honey, orange blossom, saffron, champagne grape, elemi, guaiac, blonde tobacco, and olibanum.
“You’re dead, Mad Sweeney,” said Shadow. “You take what you’re given when you’re dead.”
“Aye, that I shall,” sighed the dead man sitting in the back of the hearse. The junkie whine had vanished from his voice now, replaced with a resigned flatness, as if the words were being broadcast from a long, long way away, dead words being sent out on a dead frequency.
Tinny eucalyptus and elemi against a flat black backdrop of opoponax.
I grieve and dare not show my discontent,
I love and yet am forced to seem to hate,
I do, yet dare not say I ever meant,
I seem stark mute but inwardly do prate.
I am and not, I freeze and yet am burned,
Since from myself another self I turned.
My care is like my shadow in the sun,
Follows me flying, flies when I pursue it,
Stands and lies by me, doth what I have done.
His too familiar care doth make me rue it.
No means I find to rid him from my breast,
Till by the end of things it be supprest.
Some gentler passion slide into my mind,
For I am soft and made of melting snow;
Or be more cruel, love, and so be kind.
Let me or float or sink, be high or low.
Or let me live with some more sweet content,
Or die and so forget what love ere meant.
Inspired by the tragic, ill-fated love of Queen Elizabeth I and the Earl of Leicester. This is our modernization of a 17th-century perfume blend favored by British aristocracy: rosemary, orange flower, grape spirit, five rose variants, lemon peel, and mint.
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