How often does the Wednesday woman unfold her face wash her feet and walk again upon her words. how often does she follow the same old path, wander down the same old streets, see the same traffic lights, consider the same beggars, climb the same clouds, seek out the same bed. How often does the Wednesday woman
look for the mouth of her lover, tremble in this arms, and desperate cry out her love and sob her words in silence. How often does the Wednesday woman want to flee her passion forget her dreams and simply stay tied down how often does she laugh and sing how many tears of love. How often does the Wednesday woman have to tie tight her soul live her delirium and madness, and walk again on what´s been said, walk again upon her words.