Tu piel atraviesa mis ángulos muertos,
encendida y dulce,
chisporrotea bajos mis dedos.
Crepita preñada de sal y sueños,
dorada y valiente,
cosquilleando el instante que nos une.
Y llueve,
otra vez, como desde hace tanto,
sobre tu mar
inesperado y único,
sobre tu piel y mis ángulos muertos,
en el puerto de nuestra noche.
Tú sabes por qué.
Manzanares el Real, 14 de Octubre de 2012
1 comentario:
Anónimo
dijo...
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