My fingers graze this golden army standing towards the sun. Every leaf cuts into my hands, my arms, my body. A shape stands before me. Its curves are strong, imposing and seductive. It is a woman? They hand shakes mine and they mouth whispers to me: dance.
Shape
My fingers graze this golden army standing towards the sun. Every leaf cuts into my hands, my arms, my body. A shape stands before me. Its curves are strong, imposing and seductive. It is a woman? They hand shakes mine and they mouth whispers to me: dance.