Forced Continuance
Those died, we’d say; let us see what we can do; and you
couldn’t certainly pull the dead behind you in crates and
chests. We must find a base somewhere to position
two rocks together, to place our casserole on them, since
we are still hungry, despite this. During the nights,
women secretly get up from the mattress, and dig into
the fire: they select a few embers and burnt twigs
and make up their eyes. At dawn, they first wash their faces
and boil our coffees. They don’t look at us. Only some straw
is glued onto their soles, which are full of resin, and some
pieces of paper from a ripped letter
Libros Libertad 