Aspiration is the core to the drive. Ambition is the fire that burns in the belly. Desire is the dessert that drips from the lips and intoxicates the chasms of the soul.
The mistress with the glare, the glow, the flare and the flow. Movement sleek and slender, with a laugh that pierces the moment that you subsequently find yourself in. Careless considerations moving through your mind as she murmurs sweet nothings. Flabbergasted and deviated from the norm - the time and space you find yourself in can only be described as contentious. She is a deity. A queen. A sun kissed, golden goddess that emits a frequency that could melt your morality. The psyche sits on the back foot as you try to climb back up on to the podium you call your mind.
But as you stammer and stutter and your nervous system sits in flutter your primal state knows best. Channel your frequency and emit impetus in intention, and maybe she will consider sharing a moment.