My pale skin is fading fast.
The sun is browning up my face
to match the smiling population.
I thought that I would dine alone
until welcomed by a group of ten. We laughed
and then we danced in crowded rooms,
"PUTO" etched above the bar.
If news were better off to shun
the words and actions of the mad,
then why not us as well?
Frida's garden
Counter-revolutionary t-shirt?
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