It's actually the need to impress.

As  seeing her wicked beauty more grandeur than a dream...
as if a  thaumaturgist sharing facts...  a warning how to work the chemical tinctures, how your doing it.

Is she a coy feral  ****? Knowing 'can make interested  those whose core advocates all companionship's cruxes- includes no adorning.

As much as losers slip about, we're actually revealed to be there faster than insects- the spiders which web  reminders, fears, no identity.

It's difficult to see one's self... to try a swanky nested intention of approach to this queen, indubitably "any way is right" internal  validity.

Please caress our person, our chimes, ***** thinks "**** I'm cheap", some great person identifies, as society vows- some if it's power.
So to speak.

Universe of causes.. everyone except the questioning. What are my failures? Ends to a means, yet, she can't go grind this meat.

With these wings, lace, lipstick, her golden gloves all just ebb
and flow... boyfriends who attack to return to ascension.

The epitome of smirks bade, perhaps once smooched by the garbage.
She does so good, that all you, are gazelle. You got a problem druggy, mr milquetoast, go  fast... for she can't have any of that, time is only a mirage.

To say it backwards. Do precious atypical she beings have an earlier keeper, did they free the kingdom of this queen and what followed?

Simply too much momentum for now.  
It seems her favor delays celebrations.

As reality is beat to the verse of the impressed and
free achievement... or not, for truth knows  
not so hollow pain can her beauty be...

As all who've ever set eyes on her with
muster of painful delight go forth eternally!