The details of those poems may be his first inkling that I know what he did.
Latinidad, to me, was like a shrunken sweater. I never wanted to get rid of it, but I couldn’t imagine how it would possibly fit.
I wasn’t looking for pretty stories. I wanted messy, ugly, honest secrets.
“I want you to believe every single word I say, but don’t be fooled—I’m using lies to convince you.”