I SEE A WOMAN MAKING UP - Poem by Luis Benitez

I see a woman any woman making up and change
first she is thinking of something else (because when
a woman
begins to make up she hasn't yet separated this act
from the rest of the day).
But when arranging the various objects that the
ceremony
preciously determines in the exact place around
her hands

the woman knows that something has entered this
world again
However she avoids naming that to come
Powders creams paints for the delicate architecture
pencils that will write other words than these
words that will intend saying that whom she hides
The other one as she sees herself must be designed by
this one showing
in the mirror to see her
She looks shy before her elder sister
insisting
"take me out of nothing invoke me let me be again
among beings hours and things
let me be again among men
above all let me be again among men"
And the little one surrenders to the call of the big one and
puts her out and designs her in the mirror
On the other side she remains put in the drawing
Powders creams paints pencils the instrument is the
same
in all similar ceremonies
Who manufactures these things knows what she is doing
I see a woman making up and she fascinates me
On her part and as usual the woman is only fascinated by
herself
Nothing or nobody exists even when she approaches the mirror
or when she stands facing the mirror or when she withdraws
Rare species so much sung and deaf
She sails along life tied to her power and what is placed in her ears
and before her eyes what is concentrated in her mouth
save her from falling
It will be because of it that in front of one we are always alone
Enigmas of what cannot fall
Now she draws a line has doubted not for not knowing but
because
knowing the meaning of the ceremony, she enjoys the preliminary
now she draws a line and divides the day in two
It has been done the rest is a development a dark blue line
hardly a stroke
on the left eye completely transformed
It is no longer a human eye it is not the eye that came with her
from the womb
that bore a woman but an eye of her own
definitely hers
The eye regards the rest in the mirror and satisfied
winks to encourage the woman
The other one looks at her from that eye where she now appears and
watchful
impels her to continue
However the woman pauses half made up
drinks
a cup of tea there is a pleasure in going about the world
scarcely made up
Simultaneously it's like demonstrating a minute power
to the other one
a slight strength that may delay but will not avoid her
What both know and thank for
But finally also the right eye changes and the other woman
perfectly sees
in the mirror now she is the one who sees
and the first woman is leaving slowly stroke by stroke
There are some hazel creams with which women
change their skin
they don't darken theirs but withdraw the other skin from
her cheeks and allow it to show
I completely ignore the name of this ointment as I ignore the names
of other elements of the ceremony because they and their names
belong to another world
The one that lives together with man's on this earth and
and in history
Precise names things terms that we cannot
understand
which come from another language, are pronounced in another language
much more suggestive than ours
a language that is to be used in a low voice almost
in a whisper
Because it does not belong to the universe of great expansions
but to
that of the confidential the intimate the obscure
In this language women speak among them and talk
to the other one before the mirror
Where a gesture means something different where no word
corresponds with ours, there in that language a woman makes up
and we believe she embellishes
Before the mirror everything has been consumated and the other one
is already in this world
the previous woman has gone and this is the one who sees herself entire
Alternatively she moves a muscle smiles raises or bends her head
as an actor calculating his strength and previously rehearsing movements
Before the mirror this other woman measures sinuosities gestures pauses
Alone previous unique, these gesticulations are like the archetypes
which live at ease in the world of ideas but are then converted into
a number
Repetitions of every movement will be launched
with extreme precision over the world of things
They will incorporate to this without losing their foreign condition
The woman is not only herself but also her gestures besides her body
she haunts the body's surroundings the room the entire place
wherever she is
Like this woman the other one who still looks at herself
in the mirror a little longer
mask of mask fiction believed to be complete.