Why don’t I speak my mother’s language? With this question, posed from a memory rooted in silence, Socorro Venegas constructs a revolution imbued with the dignity of a life on the margins, the revaluation of indigenous languages, the collective dialogue of mourning, childhood as a tragic territory, and the mystery of motherhood.

In these mestizo pages that oscillate between poetic memory, the unstable essay, the imaginary autobiography, and the non-fiction novel, the author appropriates a river of voices, testimonies forged through blood and fire, a pain that is a language not always articulated enough to be heard. Its pages evoke an intimate epic, an indelible beauty, a social and political meditation, and the resistance of our ancestors spanning more than five hundred years. The women in this book love and resist; they make mistakes, and in their silences, they carry secrets of which they are not proud: they are alive. Their words are an embrace.