Angela Acosta My Dear Encarna Querida Encarna, my dearest, how are you? When your parents named you Encarnación did they know you’d embody resistance, willing into being a queer gender defying writer, an elder who died too young? Have tea with me for I know your alias (Elena Fortún) and name by heart, but most adore the work you sent upstream to the twenty-first century, the sapphic Hidden Path to your soul. Encarna, if I may, let us go on a walk, a short jaunt through your Madrid, and may I show you the iridescent glow of your rainbow kin who stare without shame, love without limits and follow the paths you knew were always there.
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