where did you leave it
entangled in which propeller in whose maw
who preserves it as a keepsake in a small crystal vase
who uses it for shark bait
who keeps it as a chinrest while watching pelicans and
ramparts.
maybe, mulatto
it was food for someone dying of fear on a
raft
wading through some river
scaling some fence
crossing some desert
to change identity.
maybe it lies with a moribund little boy who wanted to
breathe through your skin
as he fell to the deep
—manta ray of salt
waters run alive through your finger.
waters ablaze with imprints mulatto
who kissed and curdled your finger
who severed it gently . . .
you had almost drowned when the coastguard lifted you
and placed you in a pen
your finger’s missing passport betrays you
mislaid
who traces your footprint now mulatto
ah?
(translated by Vanessa Pérez-Rosario, click here for the original Spanish version)