She was a pachuca, a chola.
Young living at a fast pace; wild, wicked, reckless.
Cruces on her hands and tattoos up her limbs. …
But the wine and dope and years wore her down.
Now she is truly lost.
La belleza que era aimlessly wanders the downtown parks of this bustling business town.
La chula del pasado is a blank page viewed through dead eyes.
And my heart aches for her.
………………………
* https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aZ5QnzGUkos (I had lusted for a pachuca–with that cool special slow stride and a little panza–when I was in high school in south Texas in the 1960s. However, she was both older and much more street-wise than I … with a bad pachuco boyfriend.)