Y en mis trincheras. Y en tus trincheras. Allí se nos llena el cuerpo. Llueve y no es sensato. Bailas como la escarcha seca. Son inmensas tus promesas. Y el amor, y el amor? lluvia seca. Te he visto venir con una sonrisa seca. Y aunque el amor, a veces, es un ocaso, en ti es una promesa. Llueve en tus recuerdos, a vista corta; pero son largas tus manos que me los acercan.
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