Alejandinho's Daniel's Victory over the Lions
Santuário do Bom Jesus de Matosinhos: Congonhas do Campo, Minas Gerais, Brasil

"When she was in severe labor the midwife said to her, 'Do not fear, for now you have another son.’ It came about as her soul was departing (for she died), that she named him Ben-oni; but his father called him Benjamin.”  Genesis 35: 17-18
She looked at her foot
as it rested against 
the greyed broken tiles
of the dirtied floor. 
It blurred with the pinkishgrey
    of that room 
and her foot danced. 
She was in heaven, 
as the sky twirled about her, 
the clouds white against the brilliant sun. 
Ecstasy in the dance,
she flew in his arms,
her lips flashing smile. 
Laughing throaty voice of passion
She murmured yes.
Yes. 
And she knew that time 
was lost within her, 
engulfing her in void. 
Black. 
The black of an ugly cat,
gnarled fur falling,
patches of disease breaking its skin
and bones showing, 
sickness moving its body 
slowly across the 
paved         hot         tar.
Screeching of the brakes and blood
Splattered 
Scream of death. 
She cried yes. 
She cried no.
And her foot slowly cramped 
as she moved it. 
Struggling 
she felt her pulse 
once more. 
So she limped, 
walking ‘cross the floor,
out into the air, 
the stifling heat returning. 
She looked at her feet. 
They danced across the pavement, 
The         hot             tar         melting.
Being an academic not paid enough for her trouble, Ana M. Fores Tamayo wanted instead to do something that mattered: work with asylum seekers. She advocates for marginalized refugee families from Mexico and Central America. 
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