Vas midiendo mis huellas. Y tardo, y tardo. No sé hallar el camino que a ti lleva. A la vista me confío como testigo. Mas como un peso odiado del olvido me pesa, me lleva a tal paso que la tierra ante mis pies se cierra. Barca de sangre voy casi siendo pasado; sorda nunca te acuerdas del corazón que te bate. Hilo de vida fastidiosa, terminada en la partida, espesa, líquida, pintas por dentro las venas.
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