Looking for Natasha

No one understands me! You are the only one who understands. But you understand. Between the folds of your skirt, under the grey laces, the golden lights of the long strides which you take upon a narrow path. I follow. You take me there. You make me proud and make me follow. You show me  the threads of people’s clothes. You come right in front of my eyes, hold your head to the side, and mercilessly turn and leave. I love your game. I love that you change colors and keep coming and going. I love everything between you and me. Rendez-vous in a thin vertical rectangle that starts with light and finishes in darkness and shadows. I gaze at the frame you show yourself, and I am waiting for you, sitting on my knees, looking through a trembling hole, here in front of the frame. I err and my hand slips on the black button. But Natasha , It’s not you anymore so I step back, I am ready, looking patiently at the rows of fabric, waiting for you to return. To stop somewhere between me and this trembling frame. To step on the fabrics  and this time, not go back.