Red nails

I will stay with what you taught me, even long after my footsteps disappear. They will remain, in my children or in whoever is willing to listen to me about the way a steak is cut, how to clean their hands or how to sit down.

I’ll sit under different trees spreading the seeds that you planted in my life, making you immortal in every human being that passes through my life. By saying: “Paint your nails red, put on your skirt and challenge the authority". I’ll tell them that the revolution began with a twenty-one-year-old woman who did not allow herself to be dominated by a man and that it was from her where nature drew its strength and from where God copied itself to create intimidation. That that is where my mother pointed her footsteps when she taught me how to walk.

I’ll be in every corner of my city as a prophet shouting to see if they have heard the story of the woman who was born in the city of diagonals to make it more bizarre than it already was. I’ll keep you in my memories as the woman who taught me that pain creates monsters of us and yet we have delicate strong hands to not let our loved ones go.

I’ll never let you go, even when there is no life left in me, even when it is in other people's lives. I’ll keep you tied to this earth so that no one will ever forget what our ancestors did to give us life.

TA.