.En hojas muy viejas
Me leo el futuro,
Al medio el cerebro
Se parte por el sol.
El negro es muy blanco
En mi ciego destino,
Vomito mil frases
Y ni una cancin.
Me aferrar a la muerte
Slo si es el mejor pasaje.
Es la cita a ciegas
Que no hay que esperar.
.
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