Miraba como la pupila de la lluvia del elevado Oriente

viernes, septiembre 02, 2022

 No sé. No es. Para ver. Asustada cama vacía. Impulso de fuga. Ausencia cruz. Dormidas ciegas. En el fugaz vacío. Furioso de agitados brazos. Se mueve como un asiático rayo. Miraba como la pupila de la lluvia del elevado Oriente. Donde el mar no duerme. En su bordado borde del invisible hilo que al mundo sostiene. De cuya realidad nadie osa dudar.

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