What time is this
so beautiful again and again.
is it that time
esteemed of recollections
or is it that precious time
of images and where they remodel
where love and smiles are bound
in moments of meaningful beauty and bloom
when she lets herself loose,
and her hairs too,
into small combs, rollers, pins and powder
oil, shampoos, smiles wrung together
massaging her own loveliness
from a reflection palmsized of a mirror
until every hair and brow
recollects to a different bright horizon.
what time is this
so beautiful again and again.
.