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Is it a crime to want to be good? she cried

Luis Alberto Urrea

Is it a crime to want to be good? she cried

Luis Alberto Urrea
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Our power comes from the earth
Luis Alberto Urrea
I am in the earth and the earth is in me
Luis Alberto Urrea
They breathed. They felt their lungs fill the sky, and they let the dark clouds inside them flow out. Then they connected to the earth.
Luis Alberto Urrea
Life shifting, as life does
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Gringos! They have copied us again
Luis Alberto Urrea
Tomas led a young woman by the hand and walked up into the foothills. Millian, the miner from Rosario, had introduced her to the patron, already buying points for himself. He was no fool. And the girl, no fool either, lifted her skirts for Tomas as he knelt before her, licking his way up her thighs -brown and sweet as candy, at the same time, tart and salty, musky, silken and cold in the warm air, refreshing as the sorbet he licked in Culiacan back when he was a student. She was amazed that this bit of her body could the great master to his knees before her. She was perhaps the most beautiful girl on that whole plain, but he did not her name and felt no need to ask. He pressed his face to her underwear, redolent with the burning scent of her, and he pulled the cotton down, over the bright points of her hips , the shadowy curve of her belly, until the fog of dark hair came into his sight, soft in the moonlight, tickling his face as he bent down to her again. He pressed his lips on the mound of her, breathing her in, tasting her like a dog, as her skirts fell over his head and her fingers pulled his head tighter to her, her legs moving apart in the dark, her beauty falling around him, his greatest gift to him, this flavor, this smell, her scent.
Luis Alberto Urrea
Death is alive, they whispered. Death lives inside life, as bones dance within the body. Yesterday is within today. Yesterday never dies.
Luis Alberto Urrea
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