Miradas de ciego, obcecado y ciego. No supe cuando el amor estaba. Infatigable y desdichada memoria que vuelve contra los recuerdos. Se parecía al amor en calma, al subir y bajar de los sentimientos. Y ahora que me hablas, en el primer momento, surge el germen del recuerdo. Tomo cerca tu respiración y tu contacto. Tu brazo, tu vestido contemplo, tu olor ebrio y la longitud de tu fuego.
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