Nu se desfasoara, ci se infasoara

O haina de blana moale, infiorator de placuta. Ma ascund in ea, ma invelesc, o cercetez, o strabat, intru in manecile si scorburile ei, cobor, o urc, dansez, ma infasor. Pana cand mi-e atat de bine si de cald, incat parul mi-e ud, inima imi bate prea repede, am ochii inchisi si cu toate astea vad picioare de fata Morgana, si-atunci simt ca trebuie sa ies, s-o desir, sa respir. Stiind ca ma-ntorc. Mereu, inauntru. Animalic.

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4 thoughts on “Nu se desfasoara, ci se infasoara

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