The Grocery Store Across the Tex-Mex Border (Poem No.5)

Once my sister was
in our store.
My sister,
who has a huge green eyes embedded
in a white complexion,
was spoken to by a man
who came to buy some things.

He said he loved bicycles
and asked my sister if she did, too.

A week after the man returned,
but appeared on the other side of the street,
beckoning my sister to come with him
for bike ride. But my sister refused
and shook her her head no.

My mother was restocking the candy.
She saw what happened from the counter
and came over. The man explained
to my mother that he just wanted to give my sister a bike ride.
My mother,
instead of getting angry,
told the gentleman that my sister was not going with anyone.
“She doesn’t even go with her father for a bike ride,
actually, my husband is in there with my son,”
she started to say,
making the stranger think that she was not alone. But she was.

He disappeared quickly.
I wonder if my sister who is so beautiful,
who looks like a fairy tale princess,
if she would have become one of the many girls
who disappear in my beloved Ciudad Juarez
under the indifference and complicity of the authorities.

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