Sheen

girls curl their hair and run
caught up in the sun

the only shadow on their way
diverts the light

fragrant young gardenias

apples so round that
no snake will ever be able
to encourage to leave
the paradise

it is all become a sign they
do not seem
on temporary holiday

a natural destiny where
time is absent
or hidden in the breath of all

focused on the hope
of coming to answers
on attitudes

the day ends and fragments
in sunny moments that get lost
in the eyes

caress without movement
hours without tolling
fantasy without discernment

lost for the sake of living
together a sudden idea