I woke up moisturized,
unbothered,
and bathed in divine glow—
not your business, not your blueprint,
and certainly not your rehab center.
I did not come here
to play mama to a grown man’s insecurities,
wipe fear off foreheads,
or hand out hugs for half-evolved behavior.
Baby, this ain’t daycare—
this is divinity.
Yes, I’m sensual.
No, that doesn’t mean I want to teach you
how to spell “worthy.”
I sparkle because I studied the storm,
not because I’m trying to get noticed at your table.
Matter of fact, I brought my own table.
Gold legs.
Velvet seats.
Only RSVP: Grace and Good Credit.
I laugh now,
full-bodied,
like the ancestors are dancing in my belly.
I don’t flinch when they fumble my name
or misread my glow
as arrogance.
(It’s not. It’s alignment. Get used to it.)
I stay cloudy in your disillusionment, because it’s not my job
to offer weather reports
to folks who never checked their forecast.
I don’t explain my shine—
I bask in it.
I don’t debate my joy—
I decorate it with candles and dance breaks.
I don’t beg for love—
I attract it,
dripping in mango oil and purpose.
So here I am,
resting—on purpose,
receiving—like the goddess I am,
laughing—because what else can you do
when peace looks this good in your bones?
I’m not here to perform.
I’m not here to parent.
I’m here to pleasure the divine
with every slow sip of life.
And that, my dear,
is a full-time glow.—✨
—
Signed with rose water and don’t-play-with-me energy,
Sherley
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Healing Majestically 