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ieri a fost sincera

O intreb, privind speriat la culoarea uleiului, daca o tzine turata.
Ea isi ascunde sub mainile incrucisate sanii, ce isi tradau formele din spatele tricoului. Imi spune sa ma uit spre motor si ca o mai tureaza, dar ca nu face asta intentionat, ci doar uita sa schimbe uneori cand e muzica prea tare si la drum lung uita sa treaca din a treia in a patra ca nu se aude motorul.

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