We have a long history at the Mexican-Texan border of being numbers in a list especially in the ones that count deaths. About a mile away from where I live, just after the pandemic hit our town, a woman of my community was brutally murdered by her partner. We also know of the prison North of us and the detention centers and border crossing South of us. All continue listing and the death toll incrementing daily. If we unearth this land, lynchings and burnings appear. And when I think about it all, these lists that carry our names, all these numbers become layers of time overlapping like looking through newspapers on windows from inside to outside during the day and from the outside inside at night. Our stories are never quite visible. Always two-sided.