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191 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2005
“I can’t see your face, but I know that you are beautiful; I can’t see your outside, but I can describe your soul...I can see all the things that I believe in. I can see why we are here and where we will go when our games in.”
Malinalli began to weep silently.
“Why are you crying?” the grandmother said.
“I’m crying because I can see that you do not need your eyes to look or to be happy,” she answered. “And I’m crying because I don’t want you to go.”
[trigger warning:] On the night of the wedding, Jaramillo, by then drunk and full of desire, penetrated her again and again. He drank from her breasts, kissed her skin, submerged himself in her, emptied all his being in Malinalli, and fell asleep...The only one who was awake was Malinalli. The desire to set herself on fire kept her alert...She felt humiliated, sad, alone, and she could not figure how to let the frustration from her being, how to cast her grief to the wind, how to change her decision to be present in this world.

