It is not worn, it is imposed.

Night on the hills of Kumasi
it is dark silk that wraps
millenary secrets. An aroma
nocturnal, regal, soulful
restless. The tuberose blooms
like a moon hidden among the
woods, oud and patchouli
intertwine in an embrace
which is an ancient and silent dance.
It's the scent of the night
African who observes and remains silent,
keeping in the shadows the
strength of forgotten queens.