The Tile was My Alibi By Jaime Rodriguez

The tile is my alibi—

look down, not out, stay safe.

¿Qué miras?

Every square reflecting pieces—

cold, blank, obedient.

But the steam blurs lines,

Obscuring, inviting, awakening.

Betraying boundaries, softening edges.

Me acuerdo la primera vez...

Me ardían los ojos, pero no parpadeé.

Water beads—mirrors on his skin.

Stretched. Toweled off.

My secret—raw,

involuntary, telling.

I trained my eyes on grout.

Forbidden heat, intense—

new, heavy guilt.

Dios ayúdame.

Locker slams—startling echo.

Masculine noise—ritualized grunts,

private laughs—distant, distorted.

I flinch too slow, buzzing—

eyes wide, ears full.

Teammates talk over me.

But I’m tuned to the air between them.

“No mires mucho,”

mi tío siempre dice.

When rally hugs seem to linger,

jerseys, soaked, sticking,

I don’t pull away.

Y no digo nada. —

I hold my own—

but I feel everything.

Their scent: salty, real.

Touches—stirred feelings—

fleeting flashes in my chest.

Later, it floods back in.

And I’ll wash in sweat,

but pretend it’s soap.

Cabrón and wey, practiced truths—

slang—penance—comforting denial.

Solitary release—silent ruptures.

Moans never voiced.

Kisses never taken.

The tile keeps its promise.

It sees everything

and reflects only me.

ABOUT:

Jaime Rodríguez is a Chicano poet from the Rio Grande Valley. His writing explores queer longing, masculinity, and cultural silence, often set in everyday spaces charged with emotional intensity. The Tile was My Alibi draws from his experiences in 1990s college locker rooms, where desire was both palpable and unspeakable. Blending English and Spanish, Rodríguez examines tensions between what is visible and what remains hidden. His poetry traces the interior lives of men shaped by secrecy, survival, and the careful language of code.

EDITOR'S SONG PAIRING: Andy of the Himalayas (AMINO ACID) --- Don't Pull Away