Me quedo al abrigo de tu mirada. Mientras miras de lejos como te veo. Boca abierta y lejana, sola, llana y lejana, allí donde llegué de los desiertos. Eras dátil serrana húmeda amarilla y verde. Barrera fría al altiplano desolado del norte, gran puerta al horizonte tropical su espeso viento. Sonaba cabeza loca con turbulencias de geografía. Quien no vuela en avión vuela de papel viejo impreso de biblioteca.
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