Growing up here
everyone ask our mother,
What’s a Magos?

My sister found out.

No one tells you your street
is supposed to a one-way
mirror. That its name observes a man
with the white gun of memory
to his head.

But the mirror
we created to stare privately
into the interrogation room of history
in fact reflects the other way.

I wonder if Magos knew
the moment his hand touched
theirs, a street would be named
for him
and that no one
would remember

Added: February 17, 2012 | Last changed: May 11, 2014