(inspired by Eduardo Galeano)


“En los años de la guerra, a la hora del
amanecer, cada curepo de mujer era un
mapa del miedo.”
“Anatomía del Miedo,”
en Bocas del Tiempo by
    Eduardo Galeano



Their bodies are not fears

but maps  esperanzas

destinos mothers

travel their veins

as rivers

sons stolen


Their arms  another place

of battles  pin pricks

on the skin  explosives

in the nerves  Move to their chests


Sin caras  missing

faces of their children

a girl dragged out in the night

a boy turned man  turned soldier

discharges bullets

Corazón  heart-

less  a storm

from high mountains

soaked forest a hut crowded

with shivering women What has been done

to their bodies?  Jeeps

over crooked roads

through cities Dress up

in business suits


A mother weeps

by the warmth of her oven


Move down her legs  not running

not quietly creeping

around corners

in the shadows her brain

ruptures Enter her stomach

A  home


Watch her


her body  fingers kneading her skin

to search out

where her children

were last seen.