“You’ve got to admit it’s a bit of a pantomime, though,” said Crawly. “I mean, pointing out the Tree and saying ‘Don’t Touch’ in big letters. Not very subtle, is it? I mean, why not put it on top of a high mountain or a long way off? Makes you wonder what He’s really planning.”
And Jehovah God commanded the man, saying, Of every tree of the garden thou mayest freely eat: but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt not eat of it: the green rolling hills of the First Garden, a scattering of apple blossoms and apple pulp, a handful of pomegranate seeds, and a soft, serpentine hiss of poisonous green musk, opoponax, and frankincense.
coffinpop –
after one smell i knew i needed more. so i decided i had to put it in my mustache. it was a sound decision. i dont think i can go back to a world that doesnt smell like this. the kyphi and oud practically play doctor together, and the opoponax and orris offer a rich lotion quality, an expensive one from a 300 year old business, like one of gwyneths goops. the clove and tobacco sit in the background with the incenses, like the rafters and walls soaked through with centuries of smoke that you find at old churches or taverns that whisper their perfume at you when you sit beneath them. its such a perfect balance between after dinner showers for midnight masses, and late night tarot readings at the bordello. i cannot give y’all at the lab as much gratitude as you deserve for mixing this one up. you want a forehead kiss? a kidney? what do you need to keep this one going?