We did not love each other
bonito+ when we had
the opportunity.
You were already used to
looks and compliments,
from mariachis and Germans.
And I ended up being your hotel in London,
when they did not remember you.
You let yesterday’s hours fade away
between your ex, his friends
and colorful pills in Hampstead Heath.
Tonight you look wonderful
with that black dress
and your blue eyes.
The night promised glory and
vendettas to my last months.
But you always go back to be
you again.
At least with me.
What happened to you
between ‘The Mitre’++ and
Central London?
You shouted at that poor drunk Italian
that did not see you.
The bar was not what you expected.
And here there is nothing good to eat.
It’s not the children’s fault
when they break the porcelain
or the respect.
It’s the adults’ fault
that allow it.
It’s my time to
love me bonito.
Bye.

+Bonito: beautifully. Paraphrasing the great Mexican poet José Alfredo Jiménez https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xx-ipu4vs3k&index=4&list=RDFHo5uhYhjHE
++ Pub in Holland Park London.

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Text & picture© Guillermo G. Schiava D’Albano – ristretto230@gmail.com 
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Para leerlo en español ->https://ristretto230.com/2018/08/06/may-porcelana-spanish/