Maria Teresa Aláez García

Aparte


Corriendo entre vientos
que impulsan nostalgias,
hiero mis lamentos
con hojas de agua.

Abro mis heridas,
floridas, de sales,
al calor del odio,
al brillo de males.

Ciegan mis entrañas
ojos chispeantes
llenos de ignorancia.
Anhelos de sangre.

Las venas acordan
sienes y muñecas.
Arterias y aortas.
Cáñamo y eneas.

Juega la garganta
a ser tapa honda
de ocultos pesares.
Nido de Pandora.

¡Silencio! ¡silencio!
La noche me acalla.
Silencio y asilo.
No hay esperanza.

Recojo mi rostro
y hago mi equipaje.
No vuelvo mis ojos.
Ya soy mundo aparte.





 

 

All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Maria Teresa Aláez García.
Published on e-Stories.org on 03/10/2008.

 

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