10:59pm

El eco
La puerta entre abierta 
sujeto con espejuelos
que cambia con el polvo del viento

La juventud suena asi: pulsion, cafe con leche...morivivi

¿A donde van a parar los versos con ausencia de luz?

Quizas a la libreria de algun casco urbano colonial.

A mi edad divisar las puertas de salida es habitual.

Asi como con los versos que aprendo a desmebrar desalambrando.

-ER





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