She twirls around and around, fancy sandals, nude, ready for that dazzling soirée
in the sun.
Red is her image. She has never
felt this free
since that long time ago. And yet,
she is red. She is vibrant. She is flowery. The men will all see. But sadly,
they will not understand.
she is flowery. She is flowing like the river waves toward the sea,
that crystal turquoise blue immense.
She is flown like the wind. Wind. Always there to push her.
I twirl once, face all right, one huge grin with happiness. One dance followed by another.
All by herself. All by myself.
In this red flowery flow number. in the sun and dazzles.
I am her.
Will you join her?