La rama sostiene al bosque como los recuerdos a la vida. Tus labios paseantes ocultaban mi exilio. La claridad de tu boca siempre fue para mí un misterio. Nos mojaba la sonrisa de la lluvia. El aire se hacía, a veces, espeso. Nos convertíamos en la desnudez de la cama. Quería recorrer la languidez de tus lágrimas, pero nuestros cuerpos quebrados nos hacían dolor perpetuo.
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