Todo se elimina menos tus trazas. Eres la marea de la noche, la sombra de tus manos. Y tu rostro independiente en mí amanece. Eres lo que pienso en el brillo rojo de tus labios, la levadura de la ventana. Deshielas mi tristeza. Tu cabello son amplias escaleras. En tus manos me recojo. Y después de tanta vida, tomo tu espesor como venda en los ojos.
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