Mi madre says that when I dress in black,
I bring on Los Espiritus.

Mi hermano rides his caballo asabache.
Geishas from two centuries past visit,
dressed in sad kimonos,
adorned in lilies of the valley,
pass delicate hands through the sweat of the beast,
reminds them of the taste of their own tears.

Their black savage hair wraps around the reins.
El pobre caballo reaches into the Virginia sky,
screeches for mercy.

Black blankets fall upon mi hermano,
his consciousness is "lost in watercolors" and
"orange blossom" dreams.

When he awakens,
only plumas overflow are left,
a gift from Los Espiritus.