A woman can give hers as much as she wants,
Bring a man to bed and drive him crazy.
He can give him a thousand nights of passion,
Hours of perversion and endless orgasms,
Thinking that owning it
It’s enough to have it just for yourself.
He can believe he’s holding it in his fist
Just holding it between your legs, but it’s not like that.
A man belongs to a woman,
When despite being far from her,
She manages to get through her thoughts
With an unheard of simplicity.
For example, when a song goes on the radio, when an accent, a term or a dialect,
It reaches your ears and here, punctually,
She’s there, in her head. A woman owns
A man when it is in his mind that lives,
Even a little, even at times, but if it’s there
That the thought is born, it means that that woman
Of that man, he owned much more than all
Those who heard him moan in a bed
Of pleasure. A woman, a real woman,
He is not satisfied with a body, with a moment
Or physicality. A real woman prefers
Leave and know that anyone will be able to touch
That man’s skin, but no one else
He will know how to turn on his mind, get so much
Deep in depth, to touch his heart
As she did. Love is not possession
Of obsession. A true feeling, is given by this
That remains unchanged over time,
While never touching.
(Silvia Nelli)
Discover yourself 
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