Yuderkys Espinosa Miñoso is an Afro-Caribbean writer, researcher and professor. One of the pioneers of decolonial feminism and a student of María Lugones. She is the author of numerous essays and academic texts, as well as editor of several important anthologies on decolonial feminism. Her works have been translated into English, French, Italian, German and Portuguese.

when I see them,
sweaty
tired, black bodies with tails between their legs
when I see them
flesh turned to ashes,
faces numb and trapped,
when I see them
carrying heavy loads, such heavy loads, 
the burden of centuries,
carrying
their world and the rest of the
white world,
carrying, carrying.
When I see them
under the sun with their burden
still standing upright,
perpetuating the lineage
of abuse, oppression, evil,
carrying 
centuries of aching, numb bodies,
bodies so present, so close,
when I look at them
I recognise myself, I feel the brother
who continues to carry 
for those of yesterday and those of today
bearing
for you and me the heavy load
of house and table - bearing,
thus, the dream of the lineage of the whip on their bodies and backs.
When I see them
I think of the patriarch,
I wonder where he hides
where to look for him.
I only see a body for work,
for the heavy load.
I would like to be the shoulder where he rests,
me, the oppressed one, they say,
I only see pain and helplessness there.
I only want to break through
the walls that have been built, the walls
the alarms, the instinct, the desire to end it all,
to cross what separates us
to cross those thick walls
and naked, weep.    

Weep, my brother, weep.
Shout aloud,
let this cry pierce the asphalt and avenues,
let it sink deep into the very centre of the earth
let it grow in the forests and borders,
in the golf courses and mansions,
in academies and offices
Weep, my brother,
give yourself time,
let your crying stop the sound of death and misfortune
let us weep together, brother,
let our cry spread
and be only the beginning
of our reunion

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