Transformed

Guayaquil, Ecuador – 1929 Etelvina Alarcón awakes just before dawn, muttering “Se acabó la buena vida.” The good life is over. She arrives at

She grunts, pushing harder still, Empty the tank, empty the tank, Empty the tank, she repeats over and over again It’s not who she’s been

Breathe, I tell myself: in, out, in out. But it doesn’t work. My jaw tightens and I scream… on the inside. It’s been years in

I gently untwist the knots, the knots which I have tied over years and years of necessity. Each is twisted so uniquely that as it

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