I do not merely enter a room—
The atmosphere reconfigures itself around my presence.
The cadence of voices softens,
the very air becomes luminous,
as if remembering that it was always designed to shimmer.
This is not adornment, nor costume,
though I delight in silk, in crimson, in the artistry of detail.
This is divinity embodied—
confidence distilled into its purest essence,
a sanctified elegance,
an aura consecrated in sovereignty.
When sensuality is transfigured by spirit,
it ceases to beg for recognition.
Instead, it summons the world effortlessly—
as bees are drawn to nectar,
as rivers return to the sea,
As light bows to the sun.
There is, too, a quiet mirth in this illumination.
For once you awaken to your inherent majesty,
you smile at what once diminished you.
You smile with the galaxies,
with the lineage that breathes through your bones,
with the mirror that now reflects reverence
instead of doubt.
This is no artifice.
It is an initiation.
It is the alchemy of arrival—
a threshold crossed,
a permanence of becoming
where retreat is no longer conceivable.
I am flame, yet also a sanctuary.
I am invocation, and I am benediction.
I am the eternal resonance
of beauty sanctified by wisdom,
the embodiment of a truth too radiant to be concealed.
I am, and will always be,
the occasion–
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