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Succhi gastrici e effetti collaterali (Microstorie e microriflessioni in tempi di crisi) - La cantante




Stare in scena è una smania, un orgasmo che inizia già molto prima, appena stai dietro le quinte e aspetti. Una smania come prima di un viaggio tanto atteso. Come quando indossi un vestito comprato per far crepare d'invidia le pettegole.

«Culo. Fica. Aria. Voce. Corpo» mi ripeto sempre prima di salire sul palco. Serro stretti i glutei. Provo una sorta di piacere tra le cosce e sento salire la voce da tutti i muscoli del corpo. La gente pensa che io canti con il cuore. Io canto con il culo e la vagina. Ma questo non lo sanno. Quando canto ho orgasmi. Per questo mi dicono che la mia voce ha timbri cupi, rari... ma non sanno nulla del suo parto. È frutto di orgasmi. È un ascensus che principia dal piacere. È sporca di umori. Mi rende lupo. Mi rende regina. Mi dà la forza attraverso l'arroganza della scena.

La carne è incompatibile con la modestia: l'orgasmo fa di un santo un lupo.


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