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The Copy
The Copy Emeralds are priceless in the City, but never as much as a guttural no. She trained to hide that slave-of-love touch in her blues. As if the copy of the woman over- powered the original, the way it happens in drag shows; two men under the spell of a masterful mesmerist. The original man parades his strength like a peacock fanning its tail. His stare is the only weapon needed to make you dance. In the end I said no the way I did to elhonudreño the day he beat his güera at a party. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ *elhonudreño = the honduran *güera = blond woman © Sergio A. Ortiz, July 14, 2010