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Donna Summer News: Columns > Blister (Orlando Weekly)
Sometimes you get caught in a moment, whether it’s yours to embody or not. The lights dim to a dull yellow, a glass clinks with another off in the distance, a rose petal dances in the smoke-filled air before lighting on the top of your rouged cheekbone, and suddenly you’re Bad Girl Donna Summer, dripping in lace and ambivalence as the night spreads its legs in front of you.