I read somewhere in one of my old books, anti-modern. and suddenly I remember, that passage: how to dance, along with small parties of the country, without undressing, and so understand the other's body. feel under the fingers, the contact between the hips and bust and legs sweaty, your eyelashes, one hand behind my back. as it was, to understand leisure. to afford. and I walk alone and I think that now, if ever, to me that I never danced I will watch no. I no longer be able to understand, to feel good between his hips. I do know that at most the alcoholic. or voyeur. Today we're all alone. today is not so that you can go from a stranger, and ask a lap dance. The offer you a glass or two perhaps, or a cigarette, but there's no way you can not even touch it. and understand his flesh. one day this happened, my fingers learned the woman. miracle was the worst that could have happened.
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