José sits on the bed, puts his feet on the icy floor
and lights a cigarette.
He pauses for a moment
an absurd body bent like the shoulders of Atlas
looking at a world between his legs still erect
from the inscrutable nocturnal physiologies
Outside it is still dark.
There must be a reason to get up
To put one foot in front of the other
And take the 13 steps that lead to the shower
For morning masturbation
And then wash
With a physiological solution Those vicissitudes off his back,
As if they did not belong to him.
I always put myself in these absurd situations.
But my mother is adorable.