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  Landscape with Stars Perfume Oil

  Henri-Edmond Cross
  A fragrance of celestial revelry: the galaxy whirling in ecstatic fragments of light, joy caught mid-orbit. An effervescent constellation of scent: dazzling points of neroli and sugared lemon flashing like meteors. Electric ozone and crystalline lavender swirl in radiant arcs, luminous as a comet’s tail, with golden heliotrope and night-blooming jasmine stardust.

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  Neutral Perfume Oil

  A flawless skin musk.

  Select Options This product has multiple variants. The options may be chosen on the product page
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  Nyarlathotep Perfume Oil

  And it was then that Nyarlathotep came out of Egypt. Who he was, none could tell, but he was of the old native blood and looked like a Pharaoh. The fellahin knelt when they saw him, yet could not say why. He said he had risen up out of the blackness of twenty-seven centuries, and that he had heard messages from places not on this planet. Into the lands of civilisation came Nyarlathotep, swarthy, slender, and sinister, always buying strange instruments of glass and metal and combining them into instruments yet stranger. He spoke much of the sciences – of electricity and psychology – and gave exhibitions of power which sent his spectators away speechless, yet which swelled his fame to exceeding magnitude. Men advised one another to see Nyarlathotep, and shuddered. And where Nyarlathotep went, rest vanished; for the small hours were rent with the screams of a nightmare.

  Brooding, yet electric: the scent of buried secrets, roiling nightmares, the essence of the Crawling Chaos, the Father of Knives and Locusts, the Hunter in the Dark. This is the blackest of ritual incenses charged with flashes of ozone.

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  Lightning Moon 2025 Perfume Oil

  It struck me—every Day—
  The Lightning was as new
  As if the Cloud that instant slit
  And let the Fire through—

  It burned Me—in the Night—
  It Blistered to My Dream—
  It sickened fresh upon my sight—
  With every Morn that came—

  I though that Storm—was brief—
  The Maddest—quickest by—
  But Nature lost the Date of This—
  And left it in the Sky—
  – Emily Dickinson

  
  
  It burned me—in the Night—
  It Blistered to My Dream—

  A scent born from sleepless nights and storms that carve themselves indelibly into memory, when lightning is no longer sky-bound, but lives in the beat of your heart and the whisper of your breath. Opium-laced benzoin and sweet myrrh veiled in black amber, violet incense and bruised plum, streaked with star jasmine, white frankincense, and ozone-crackled white musk.

   

  Art by Drew Rausch!

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