Opens with incense and intrigue, and a sweet, spicy neroli rose that blooms a yard off the wrist.
Soon melts down to rich amber resin and sandalwood and lingers on the skin for an hour.

Lovely and mysterious, but I wish the honey notes lasted longer–and that price is not a steal.

This song effectively ended the eighties, and confused a hella lot of us about fashion, gender norms, and which ends of our cutoff jeans we were supposed to wear where.
Damn, I miss Prince.