Forty, I still have hope
The glands in my ******* engorge
the desire, with big eyes
I bounce between decency
and groping, tripping
over crooked paving stones
spying for an opportunity
Where is my husband now
that I need him
to go for me?
Doesn't he smell my need?
I pull up a leg
my wrap skirt falls open
Half-hidden my butterfly
the promise of my powder puff
Farfalla = butterfly, *****
Her powder puff: Il suo piumino da cipria, from the story "La signora Speranza" - I ("Mrs. Hope", 1903, Luigi Pirandello)
Collection "Eyes lips chest and belly"