"This beautiful elder is my teacher. In other parts of the world, she may be considered holy because of her ability to sit in the same place for so long"

A poem by Janny Castillo

On the street, I see someone who looks like my brother, dresses like him, moves like him. For a moment, I suspend the truth and say, “There’s my brother.” The moment passes too soon. But there are many who suffer still, and I try to treat them like brothers, for my brother.