Mural Art: Magia Trece
Poetry: Oana Maroti
He murmurs the refrain of a melancholic song
And puts on some high-heeled shoes.
There is a corner of femininity in that big room.
The bottle of antique perfume pulls the trigger on the attraction.
As he measures
the lines of his own
figure in the mirror,
perfumes the interior
with a rose scent,
breathes deeply satisfied,
picks up a pen,
starts playing with it
and says:
Hum. Now I can write.
🎧:
https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/cap-de-meteorit/episodes/The-corner-of-femininity-e2kl6bj
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