«De mujer» me exiges una réplica. Flotas inquieta como aire vivo, como noche caliente sin detenerse en el camino. Y buscas repentina, «dormida» y sola, la raíz de los sueños. Es la noche un loto dormido, el agua sentada en su superficie, criatura, fuego inmediato, agua floreciente, líquido de la vida, recuerdo que el paisaje sueña, eterna amante del árbol de la vida.
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