Hortencia Hortencia's face changes In flashes and guises. Her eyes and teeth gleam Like Indians' arrows. With laughter vibrato Like a charming child's. Hotencia leans over social Tables to stir talk. Above the hotel room's phone, Though, Hottencia's brow creases With compassion as a paitent She's called tells the psicilogo his problems. Her clothes for the street Display many pockets, Her boots like a Governor's-- Or, bettter yet, a buccaneer's. About her apartment, though, Hortencia pads barefoot, Stout, her skin of cocoa-butter brown, Like an Indian in the forest. First version July 1983
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