I am the big brother of two freeborn babies, twins
a brother and sister, my own,
free, so free,
while I am not.
Eleven years old and now it has happened
there she is
on her deathbed
arms crossed
eyes closed
ghostly mask of powdered eggshells and rice
still in place
hiding her darkness
No matter how much I scream, shriek, weep, pray
she will not live again
she who called me the child
of her old age
Don’t cry, my other mother, the real one, whispers
this is the end
of your sadness
now you are free!
But I’m not
it’s a trick
one swift trip
to the house
of my godparents
and then to La Marquesa
instead of the long-promised
freedom.