by Juan Morales
In towns, the navel of the earth
features of two continents
born to laze together.
Boys and girls molded in anatomies
with Old and New World bloods
unified through arteries and tiny hearts.
The high cheekbones and tan complexions
flare against fathers’ fair hair
and blue eyes.
They are children who stop loving tunics
curious of the fathers
departing in pursuit of heavier purses.
No one knows to call them new children
of genetics. They arrive
in papers and castes:
miraculous histories hidden
in colonial crowds,
multiplied over the hemisphere.