De tu vestido veo la fina costura. Y tu hombro reluciente. Allí posa mi mirada de ti la avaricia. Ojos barcos navegantes de tu cuerpo. Veo puertos de placer como si fuesen islas. Sonrientes islas aventureras de piratas. Se posan allí mis celos del placer de otros que toman tus puertos en sus viajes a ninguna parte. Quise tomar sus tablas, sus vientos, sus alas, en aquella hora donde dice la tarde «ya es tarde».
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