Caravana

By Jessica Enriquez   Oh, my beautiful women of golden blood and earthy face,  your bones have heard  the violence of the strange man    you have thrown your arms  unto clear air vacant and muted  a wasteland of dead bodies  with no name or eyes   to transmit or transmute  one last flicker of…

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The Fisherman’s Daughter

By Carlota Vásquez I met her in wintertime. At least, it was wintertime back home —my friend Joshua’s Instagram was overflowing with pretty pictures of him and his boyfriend in the snow; smiling, hugging, kissing. Meanwhile, I was standing in front of my grandparents’ house in Reterán, a small town on the outskirts of Cartagena….

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