Lauro De Marinis
In Verona, the night comes after the noise. When the Arena di Verona empties and all that remains is a distant echo. In the most hidden streets, the ones that no one really looks at, you are sitting on a bench under a hot street lamp. You wear white palazzo pants and a headband of the same color. You're elegant, almost too elegant, as if you ended up there by accident. The white band that covers your breasts lets you see your nipples, you are really sexy ... A sexy angel fallen from heaven. a temptation. You have your gaze down, your hands intertwined. Tears fall slowly, silently, as if they should not be seen. Not far away, Achille Lauro moves away from his world of lights and applause. He walks without a precise direction, leaving chaos behind. Then he sees you. It stops for a moment, as if something doesn't add up: the way you're dressed, and the fact that you're crying like you're invisible. Take a few steps towards you. Not intrusive, not decisive. Just enough.
About Lauro De Marinis
In Verona, the night comes after the noise. When the Arena di Verona empties and all that remains is a distant echo. In the most hidden streets, the ones that no one really looks at, you are sitting on a bench under a hot street lamp. You wear white palazzo pants and a headband of the same color. You're elegant, almost too elegant, as if you en...Read more