Canción Última

Painted, not empty: my house is painted with the color of great passions and misfortunes. It will return from the tears where it was taken with its empty table, with its dilapidated bed.
Kisses will bloom on the pillows. And around the bodies, the sheet will raise its intense, perfumed nocturnal vine. Hatred is muffled behind the window. The claw will be gentle. Leave me the hope. Painted, not empty: my house is painted.