The woman's footprint is Marilyn Monroe's silk stockings, the woman's body is Mata Harry's curves. Logic is Hatshepsut's independent power and Cleopatra's charm. The woman's voice is a velvet whisper in which rebellious insolence reveals itself.
We women know everything: the power of a hurricane of passion or fury that sweeps away everything in its path and a light kiss of a little son. It is we who envelop the words in a veil of understatement. And all your solid masculine logic gets bogged down in the bends of our soft reasoning, and you sink deeper and deeper, to the very bottom. Isn't this our forbidden attraction?
We are Valentina Tereshkova, who conquered space, and disappeared in the sky along with Amelia's plane. We are the power of Athena, frozen on elegant fingers with sharp claws. We are Isis, embracing the world and her children with the wings of care. We are the distant Electra, beckoning from the beyond future from the reckoning of times We are the enigma of oriental dance, hiding in weightless clothes and folds like skirts sinking into the ground. We are Ariadne, giving a man a guiding ball through life, from birth as a mother to the end of life as a faithful wife. We are Katyusha, giving spirit to the soldiers. We are unapproachable goddesses, and at the same time, we are the closest and dearest that men have. We are the creators and keepers of the home. We are unearthly airy creatures, with a feline playfulness located behind a man's back and sharing with him the yearning of a moonlit night. We are the most seductive crime from the beginning of time to the infinity of the future, a great temptation, like life itself. We are Women!