clay surrounded you
until your bones were terra cotta.

your body dressed
only in windows, and trees brushed the ocean from outside.
you were raised by sunsets
And away from the fire
So you have a coolness to your
body.
And the city was your soul.


inside, like your city, you are made
of clay.
your bones are like rust, but only
coloured that way;
you still have movement to your body.

you don't walk you sway, a dance down the road of madrid.