Golden bird

Feathers in my short hair.

Giggling between champagne

and the next dance.

Sitting on the piano.

he is pulling on my stockings

but I just give him a clap

on his hand.

In the next moment

a guy pulls me from the piano,

in the middle of the dancefloor.

The music heats me up,

too many legs in the air.

He turns me around.

My feathers flying

like a real bird.

I am bird

in a golden time.

copyright by Magical whispers/I. Normann, 03/05/2020