Azulejo

And it all began
sucking bronze pills
and making heroes
in Traful
you overshadow the bidet
and part your hair in the middle
you want to kill yourself
but it's getting late.

Come on, tile!
it's getting late.

You box in front of the mirror
but without vaseline
and between rounds
you work on your nose
you use the foam rage
under the warm shower
and the poor duck
suffers your damn loneliness.

Come on, tile!
it's getting late
Come on, tile!
it's getting late.