sunday afternoon

, salvador, the afternoon sunlight is folding, around us, the dishes are done, the buildings here, tall as our mountains, slice through the windows and cut off the sun. on such days i find 1 am longing for puerto rico, though i never would return 'til you are free, rut when i hear the agumaldo my heart's a little lighter, and we dance together aurea and me, in my life i've been unlucky with two husbands, gumersindo liked his rum and women friends, then that hypocrite who beat you and preached, about repentance, has gone, and so another sunday ends, and tomorrow is another hard working monday, i'm still hoping for the raise they promised me, there's a job as operator, i would not have to wait for, if i could speak the language easily, but i tell aurea: the barrio's boundaries are our own little nation, sometimes i hear you run upstairs, and i view my light with resignation, keep your bible near you, time is an ocean of endless tears. mmm.