Al principio de lo escrito hubo un secreto; un secreto de lluvia, la vida sagrada vistiéndose con la vida de los cuerpos. Entonces, llegaron tus manos como olas, y la espera de arena, y el silencio. Hubo un principio de quererte, como ahora recuerdo, un fuiste y un darme, un lugar esperado lleno de aire.
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