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3.  L i t t l e   R i v e r s

In his dream, the silver crosses

chained to the necks of virgins

are melting, sizzling down the cleavage

of their breasts, searing the flesh

of abdomens, thighs, legs and feet,

rushing in little rivers

toward the Rio Grande.

In his dream, the silver crucifixes

hanging on the sanctuary walls

are melting, leaving trails of fire

on the stone cathedral walls

and ancient wooden floors,

rushing beneath the doors in little rivers

toward the Rio Grande.

The crosses and the crucifixes

are melting, scorching the muddy bottom

of the Rio Grande, rushing

up the banks on the Texas side

and brimming the flasks

gleaming near the mouth

of the growling Chisos mine.