Retrato

Her heart was sweet as honey
and her mouth was quick
like a flowing breeze.
The total current
of her blood in motion
swept her away in a rush,
confident and strong.

She was no stranger to the loom,
she passed through the factory,
returned to the clay,
came back from the sea
and slept by my side.

She blossomed with that
maternal glow
that made her a hive
and filled her with being.
And she learned to understand
and understood by thinking
and thought while fighting
and fought as she grew.

She was no stranger to the loom,
she passed through the factory,
returned to the clay,
came back from the sea
and dreamed by my side.

When the city burned,
when the tank rolled through
and her people fell
betrayed once more,
I saw her a lot through
the months acting,
working, helping,
tearing up her feet.

She was no stranger to the loom,
she passed through the factory,
returned to the clay,
came back from the sea
and disappeared.