I could always look at myself, see myself beautiful. I caught the curve of my shoulders, sinuous shoulder blades, sturdy neck. I felt myself getting lost in the red of my hair, tight silk wrapped in ribbons.
I looked at the tenderness of my movements, the sweet and useless grace of an actress.
I touched the soft tulle, which covers and reveals the sensuality of my legs.
I followed the pauses, the waits, the poses. Always perfect, the slight smile in my eyes and on my lips.
My colored fingers rummage through popcorn and the salt warms the vision of a film that I never got tired of watching. Smelling the safety of my voice.
Hot water, empty and dry skin. The feeling of seeing my curves melt, along with everything that made sense.
Even this time I saw the show from the crowd. The last handful of popcorn before my death.
