With three steps,
bones and graves,
military classifications against usurped lands.
She herself had tulips for hair and had a culturally active
liberation. She looked at me and at history, at its
limits of growth, at mutated genes, and flickering waves.
“Face the sea. To see me you must fight the ocean.”
Even ghosts have souls, and even revolutionaries commit
The ocean herself showed me what I wasn’t, where I wasn’t,
who I’ve never seen. Those forgotten and forever lost like
titans in Eden,
“Mestizo grito y fusil.”