No hay veneno suficiente de papel

sábado, julio 04, 2015


No hay amantes en la hoja de papel, ni veneno suficiente en los rincones de los espejos. No hay dormir solitario en la extensión del desierto, ni agua, ni puntos y aparte. No hay heridas que atraviesan el sexo, ni cumbres donde todo empieza. No hay laberinto del amor perdido, ni resuenan las calles de la tormenta.



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