Black Magic

“The holy symbol of Venus, Sumerian goddess Ishtar’s relentless passion; the mysterious nymph of mythology, Calypso’s fate defying power and the black; white scenarios’ most powerful woman, Gilda’s cynical manners…

The mighty trails of the past were being redrawn in the mysterious passages of her imagination with all their dignity and elegance. A provocative invitation could be felt in the darkness of the night. She was going to pull off her daring body, embracing romance, from the mirror in which she was watching her innocence with her astonishingly mysterious gaze.

Bertha’s snakingly kept excitement echoed in the lyrics of the song coming from the back door:

Cause everybody knows
She’s a femme fatale
Things she does to please
She’s just a little tease
See the way she walks
Hear the way she talks

She abandoned her childish self that night and let herself be carried by the femme fatale silhouette’s charm.

She looked at her red lips and her reflection with the black lace dress in the mirror one more time. She discovered the magic of black in her soul as she looked at the glamorous view of the city with a glass of champagne in her hand.”