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  My Soul Acquiesced in It Perfume Oil

  A strange melancholy was stealing over me, a melancholy that I would not have interrupted. Dim thoughts of death began to open, and an idea that I was slowly sinking took gentle, and, somehow, not unwelcome, possession of me. If it was sad, the tone of mind which this induced was also sweet.

  Whatever it might be, my soul acquiesced in it.

  Melancholic white rose petals drifting in a pool of white musk, bitter almond, and icy vanilla.
  

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  Dead Blonde Perfume Oil

  “Of course young women enjoy slashers. Adolescent girls have spent their lives absorbing our cultural disgust for womanhood, only to find themselves thrust into the middle of it, suddenly the butt of every joke. Their underlying anxieties are hit with a toxic sludge of predatory attention, sexual objectification, and impossible standards, growing to fifty times their natural size. It is not easy to become a monster. It is not fun to slip – suddenly and for the rest of your life – out of humanity and into womanhood. Girls are left reckoning with the fact that their social status, their human value, even their basic survival, are all suddenly contingent on men. Thus, at the exact moment they’re beginning to have sex and enter romantic relationships, girls watch stories in which a moment’s lapse in judgment, or a single instance of giving in to temptation, results and agony and annihilation – not because that’s what they want, but because it’s already happening, and they have precious few other ways to process it.”

  A wilting corsage of tea roses and white roses, bearing forensic traces of honeyed lip gloss and coconut oil suntan lotion.

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  Beauty, The Aggrieved Perfume Oil

  A white rose draped by a delicate, pale, sheer veil of vanilla, the depth and darkness of her black lace embodied by tobacco absolute, Indonesian patchouli, Bulgarian oakmoss, frankincense, white sandalwood, and myrrh.

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  Erebos Home & Linen Spray

  Thus saying, from her side the fatal Key,

  Sad instrument of all our woe, she took;

  And towards the Gate rouling her bestial train,

  Forthwith the huge Porcullis high up drew,

  Which but her self not all the Stygian powers

  Could once have mov’d; then in the key-hole turns

  Th’ intricate wards, and every Bolt and Bar

  Of massie Iron or sollid Rock with ease

  Unfast’ns: on a sudden op’n flie

  With impetuous recoile and jarring sound

  Th’ infernal dores, and on thir hinges great

  Harsh Thunder, that the lowest bottom shook

  Of Erebus. She op’nd, but to shut

  Excel’d her power; the Gates wide op’n stood,

  That with extended wings a Bannerd Host

  Under spread Ensigns marching might pass through

  With Horse and Chariots rankt in loose array;

  So wide they stood, and like a Furnace mouth

  Cast forth redounding smoak and ruddy flame.

  Before thir eyes in sudden view appear

  The secrets of the hoarie deep, a dark

  Illimitable Ocean without bound,

  Without dimension, where length, breadth, and highth,

  And time and place are lost; where eldest Night

  And Chaos, Ancestors of Nature, hold

  Eternal Anarchie, amidst the noise

  Of endless warrs and by confusion stand.

   

  Solace in darkness, the personification of shadow: lavender, black vanilla, white melon, night-blooming jasmine, rose, cedar, cyclamen, violet, and hyacinth.

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