Desordenado y blanco. Es la ciudad. En ella, allí. En la ternura de su futuro. Allí, en su misterio. Al borde de eso que no se ve. Allí, paseas como si nada. Silenciosa y desafiante. Paisaje del amor que madruga. Cuelgan los árboles del cielo azul. Como horas impertinentes. Como piel vegetal que marea.
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