Paula Hen. Try to undress me... (№ 449102)

Try to undress me without touching the body, but tearing off all the silks and heavy jewelry from the soul. Start with a light train of subtle lies, sliding your fingers along the fragile vertebrae of despair, exposing the shoulders and the line of sharp honey collarbones, smelling of bitter wormwood. Reach for the garters of a rebellious temper to kiss sweet peace from every inch of skin. Watch how the light fabrics of beloved freedom, arrogance and selfishness fall at your feet. Undress me, greedily biting into the most secluded corners of consciousness, and then skillfully touch the soul. Hands on thin bends, taking in indestructible captivity. Dress me in tenderness, and leave the cold to the icebergs.