Atempo.
- Reads 19
- Votes 4
- Parts 1
"Si fuesemos lluvia, yo seria el desbordado Niagara, colapsando con tu mártir Sahara".
Cae en un vacío sin principio ni fin.
Danza en el viento, sabiendo y no sabiendo que va a morir
Conociendo y desconociendo la realidad de que va a renacer.
Renacerá limpiando pensamientos.
Revivirá ocultando lágrimas.
Perdurará en besos de complicidad.
Somos y fuimos lluvia.
Gotas vertiginosas que caían para desvanecerse.
Un comienzo con un final escrito.
Pero quién te quitará lo bailado, y más aún cuando es debajo de una llovizna primaveral.
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#276
desamor
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