Ann Arbor Review
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Silver Grey Fox
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How I would have liked to have learned the language of stilettos
and especially Sundays
If only I knew their language
They have a melody in their rhythm
They float slightly off the ground
And then as nails they attack the floor
Stabbing as deep as the veins, the arteries
Ah, I didn't learn their language, for God's sake!
Long stilettos, short and small ones
They all have a unique language
Stepping on concrete, dry earth, or sandy ground
The stilettos continue their typical movement,
The type of stilettos that only God knows how He made them
Multiply in number everyday like a species of mice.
I know that the stilettos belong to the women
So to understand their language care in needed
Stilettos are just as strong and durable
When holding delicate feet,
Or when like bottles the feet weigh down on them.
For a long time I have wanted to learn the language of stilettos
Even though I do not understand a single stroke in the dictionary
For a while I have wanted to learn something
Since I was a boy,
Since I was young...
And even now that my eyes twinkle upon them.
Oh, how stilettos wake up something in me
And you should know it is not a secret
Without stilettos it seems as if the river will takes us
And the earth will decay us quicker...
Stilettos have an amazing language
They break stones and wood beneath them
But I do not know if when old women wear them,
Do they cause the same fuss?
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