The Last and First of the Family Line

I traveled with the skull
made at a toy workshop.
It was made out of plastic.
I would place it at the bar
while drinking wine alone.
It kept the nice women
away and some of the bad
ones too. To me they were
all out of reach, but some
were intrigued by the skull.
I would tell them it was real.
That it was a family gift,
passed from generation
to generation. I would tell
them I was the last of the
family line, and the skull
was the first. Its name was
Miguel from Madrid. They
would laugh, giggle, and
call me weird and crazy.
That was the only thing
that was not a lie.