Once a year, you wear the mermaid’s shoes. The moment is asked by a certain desire to excite the tourists of the town. <br />You go from the bed to the mirror as if you walked on waters, stirring the dust of the day. <br />“They feel quite comfortable”, you say to me proudly, although you limp a little. <br />I don’t do anything else than to creep in the mirror and watch you.<br /><br />Horatiu Stamatin<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ars-poetica-9/
