La Virgen

Marcelo Hernandez Castillo


it’s not that she appeared
it’s that she was there

the entire time
our childhood hung

at the end of a stick
holy mother coil of strings

I want this to be our secret
I want to slide my finger

over her shawl and peel
her off the wall

and take her home
I could build an altar

let her black hair grow
through the walls

let it enter my mouth
and bless me from the inside

But in her coming to being
separated from her loss

she is already
going away