Joselito

Joselito, don’t come back home
if she’s not waiting for you and is toasting with him
And she forgets about you

Joselito, don’t return to town
if she’s walking through the square with him
In front of everyone

The neighbors are gossiping
they even say it was him who made her a woman
They’ve forgotten everything.

You can see them at church
even the priest smiles and asks about him
and about the ceremony

And at the bar, they greet him
and celebrate his jokes and his sharp style
and no one asks anymore

There’s no pool on Sundays
if even the cue you used broke, too
and no one cares

I’m writing you this letter:
this sand burns in my hands, José.
Even if I never see you

They have no memory left
forgive each other dancing to the same song
For July ninth.