She's like a dame from another era, a woman dressed in white and lips drenched in a bright red lipstick, which looks at you with an Hamlet expression and eyes full of desire, perhaps she sighs, certainly wants you capture. And you on the other side of the fence you almost do not notice so much of her transport, but in the end you ignore it, you think that women of other times were those who, on the French Riviera a century ago, has bewitched the powerful that the gay revelers vacationers of times gone by, and the latter eventually were captured from their eyes full of sensuality. Summer nights were long, hot and carefree, a gentle sea breeze joined passionate love for a night or a morning, but in the end of all autumn oncoming.
A furtive tear strokes her soft cheeks and touch from the flower of youth, while she sighs, amused, under a rain of yellow leaves.
