Se asombra el alma implorante

viernes, septiembre 13, 2019

Se asombra el alma implorante cada vez que nace una flor. Hoy desconocida. Fuera de si hoy. Ya en el futuro. Ya se necesitan. Cae el amor en el rendido cuerpo a sus encantos cuando apenas florece. Mira de mirada originaria. Ve el lugar de la noche. No de las sombras, sino de la noche plena, febril y reluciente. Ve su lúcido fuego prendido de otra alma, allí donde gobierna el universo soberano.

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