I am not flesh and bone, not this skin wrinkled around the curves of a hand, not a single heart inside a rotting vessel. I am a hidden disco tech bustling with bodies and music, a plate of fruit rich in flavor and color, the man picking coffee from branches on the mountain side-green in all directions. I am Juan and Gregario, Ana and Isa, faces and embraces. I am a boat ride through savage sea and an evening by the seaside. I am the breeze and the slow sinking sun and the children rolling around in the sand laughing wildly.
