Eres mi boca quemada

sábado, noviembre 11, 2017

Eres mi herida vieja después de la vida. Eres mi boca quemada por la espera. Se acabaron todas las tormentas cuando echaron al tiempo afuera. Primitivo dolor, mi drama. Todos tus ausencias caen en los huecos de todas partes. Cuentan las noches obstinadas nuestra mala historia vivida. Cae la lluvia en un divagar celeste. Y por ahora, solo soy recuerdo.

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