In warm, slow afternoons
with a touch of jasmine in the air
Rosinha de Valenca and Maria Bethania
Spring time bursts its seams.
Girls water flowers
the buttons of their blouses slipping free
those budding roses and fuchsia
trembling red from pierced ears.
There is something unknown in the scent
of all flowers, the flower of the hand,
breasts smothered in jasmine