ME

 --- beyond all her incomplete consent, the rare consent we save from the impossible, with a perfectly normal loving selectivity, suited (perhaps) to the harmonies of her temperament, to the liquor secreted by her eyes, the infusoria of every encounter, and of every minimal circumstance. With her friends, I believe, a regular chatter, to forge a speaking counter-universe capable of functioning regularly against any occasional disarray. Through her taste for the bedroom, the telephone, independence --- through verbal display, now feeling everything that had previously been felt only in secret, with herself. Always acting?, or rehearsing beforehand to?, elect and attract --- ‘’They are admiring your neck excessively!’’, Apud Vinícius: ‘’A woman who is made of music, moonlight and feeling must be close by’’ and ‘’whom I drink, whom I bite’’ (idem). My introverted and slow face, turned to the East, scrutinizes the frontal invitation to chat: haughty, regal celebratory virtues or points of machination to grab with chatter --- never accepting oneself as a superfluous Other, out of consideration, always reinitiating any maneuver with carefully prepared phrases, and not without some tension thinking: "I'M NOT MYSELF ANYMORE!", perhaps, after the hot bath, the delicious meal, the monologuing echo of her entire being made of fresh material, the sensual fleetingness that every woman knows after the imprecise diffusion of herself among friends --- and what a confused, comical murmur, if some closer friend recognizes her personal merits in everything they do together, and She feels discouraged to reciprocate the compliments --- how many words that are believed to be lies then, when the need to expand her power, to seek other parties and other people, so as not to have to falsify the ties indefinitely --- almost certainties and tenuous apprehensions, when offering herself to society, to its overheated social contingency that tends towards a lukewarm paralysis of intentions, or to the limbo of tedious, insipid Platonisms, her only alternation of parties and contact followed by rest, sleep and bath, in the banalities of the lowest category always foreseeing easy results in her favor, after learning of the anxiety of the people who desire her, easily imagining any advantage, quickly persuading herself of herself, of her search for eyes full of mysteries that also consider her a mystery --- "her fluttering eyelashes under the moon - inviting (siren!) to participate - in the worship that SHE renders to herself" (Edgar Allan Poe) ---