Modern woman

 

A drop of blood on the corner of the mouth
A slight eye shadow and a discrete makeup
A bloated front
Wide open eyes
A mouth full of bullets
A heart raped by nonsense
A body that only the birds and leaves are paying court to
A poisoned solitude
And a diet dose of sterilized pleasure
A mind brutalized by theories
A relentless rage against pain and illusion
And a bunch of slogans perfectly adequate for the chase of an European grant
This is what makes a modern woman

Everything human is foreign to her
Only her hands betray, once in a while
A slight human sadness
And only when they hang, exhausted
Somewhat randomly
Besides the flawlessly dressed body
In the uniform of victim-model.

 

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