. All the things you called 'women's work'. It's your work now." A campesina? Yes, he'd seen the image in the mirror. It was burned into his brain... braided black hair and high cheekbones; almond eyes, flattish nose, thick lips, and dark skin. They marked him as a mixed-race peasant girl. His braids swung as he shook his head and wailed, "'Lita, I'm sorry! For... for God's sake, don't leave me like this! Please, make me a man again. A white man! I won't leave you, I'll help with the. What... What bullshit. You are words on a computer screen -- nothing more. You aren't really real. I know in my ever so logical mind that I would, once again, be spending this Valentine's Day's night alone. ******I find myself sitting in my room wanting you. Wanting you to be here after our "big date". Wanting to have you read me that Valentine's card full of clich?that you had gotten for me. Wanting to read you the Valentine's poem that I'd written just for you. Roses are red...Wanting you to. More

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