¡Qué hermoso es que me mires como el insecto a la flor! Te hablo oscuro para que no me veas. Te hablo hermoso para que tus ojos se hagan agua. Y las mariposas, como caballos locos, trotan sobre mi piel al galope. Hubo una vez ojos negros de las apariencias. Y victorias. En el temblor de la flor del cuerpo hicimos el amor como si fuese nuevo.
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