En ese mirar de las mariposas

domingo, abril 19, 2015


En tu boca encendida me quemo; en ella estuve como un parapente, en tu noche bruja y extrema. Con el sabor de la espera, en tus labios de manzano, en la sombra del dormir, recogidos. En la sombra de tu mano, en tu sueño reparado, en nuestros guiños cómplices: esas aves migratorias. En ese mirar de las mariposas fuimos.



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