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66 Mi Rosa y Mi Sal for Sonia Some years ago I took four rose petals flat on a board, sprinkled them with salt, preserving their color as my gift to her: Eres mi rosa y mi sal, I wrote on the back. Flat and sprinkled with salt, the board still hangs on a wall inside her studio. Mi rosa, I read, mi sal, and think back to the nights she filled with salsa music, hanging out in her studio, the walls listening to her chitchat about la vida as we danced salsa, filling the night with whatever she wanted to believe. Through chitchat, I learned of her life: the deadbeat husband, drugs in Harlem— and I wanted to believe as she believed: Depués de todo, la vida sigue bella, she’d say— Life keeps beautiful after all, she still says, the four rose petals just as red as the day I gave them to her, sprinkled with salt. ...

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