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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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• 

  Samhain Perfume Oil

  Truly the scent of autumn itself — damp woods, fir needle, and black patchouli with the gentlest touches of warm pumpkin, clove, nutmeg, allspice, sweet red apple and mullein.

  Out of Stock
• 

  Flowering Plum Twig Perfume Oil

  Plum blossoms and fruit drenched in brandy with a touch of vetiver, nutmeg, tabac, and bourbon vanilla.

  Out of Stock
• 

  Lines to a Nasturtium (A Lover Muses) Perfume Oil

  Anne Spencer
  
  Flame-flower, Day-torch, Mauna Loa,
  I saw a daring bee, today, pause, and soar,
  Into your flaming heart;
  Then did I hear crisp, crinkled laughter
  As the furies after tore him apart?
  A bird, next, small and humming,
  Looked into your startled depths and fled…
  Surely, some dread sight, and dafter
  Than human eyes as mine can see,
  Set the stricken air waves drumming
  In his flight.
   
  Day-torch, Flame-flower, cool-hot Beauty,
  I cannot see, I cannot hear your flutey;
  Voice lure your loving swain,
  But I know one other to whom you are in beauty
  Born in vain:
  Hair like the setting sun,
  Her eyes a rising star,
  Motions gracious as reeds by Babylon, bar
  All your competing;
  Hands like, how like, brown lilies sweet,
  Cloth of gold were fair enough to touch her feet.
  Ah, how the sense reels at my repeating,
  As once in her fire-lit heart I felt the furies
  Beating, beating.
   
  Hair like the setting sun, eyes a rising star, and a heart fire-lit: golden amber, warm nutmeg, cardamom pod, tolu balsam, sweet patchouli, vanilla absolute, wildflower honey, lovage root, and cacao.

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