Manos dentro de manos

jueves, septiembre 12, 2019

Eramos fuerzas sin contención. Como aquello que crece y crece. Sin espacio suficiente. Pez sin agua, nariz sin aire, suficientes. Manos dentro de manos, contenidas. Ojos dentro de la luz. Bocas inundadas de palabras, tropicales ciénagas. Crecían raíces fuera del agua por falta de tierra, abarcaban los espacios inexistentes.

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