For those who have eyes to see

She takes me to the border

We cross under the bridges

One leading in, one leading out to the other side

A side wich is not separate but has been made so

She tells me I have to bring you to the border

People from the border understand in ways others don't

What is and what isn't what is served and what always remains hole

Here at the threshold were American-ness is then and Mexico is so present

But is Mexico in this place an early and lasting presence

Are these people American?

That's what threatens the purists and Latinos

You find blending and it terrifies

What was? What is in that mixing? What's in that? What's in that mixing?

It ends the border

There is no going on there like Cristo Rey

That third space that cannot be where the false borders are endlessly

I'm hurt

‍