haha

Everything suddenly exists among the vegetables and flies of ruined markets.
Consumed abandonment is more real than your consumed gestures. The night chills.
A drunk sailor says to you Lord, says to you cocaine. You look for a street name through the fog.
You look for a number, a door knocker shaped like an amputated hand.
Sometimes the street lamps show us your figure. Your face is tense and tears are drying next to your nose, which shines.
Your hair reminds me of an animal, of a Tarzan movie, of the first sexual act.
The hair gel on your sideburns of Valentino.
Your acrid scent gets confused and mimes the rotting food jelly.
You are a consumed shoeshiner wandering around the hills.
You are a mask, the abortion of a tango, contemplating the port’s lights.
Everything suddenly gets slow. Galaxies occur in your mind.

Aparecen galáxias en tus ojos

Ex-Patos

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