Canto a la angustia

Canto a la angustia


A mis ojos se acercan 

días nublados,

silenciosos espacios

grises y azules intensos,

enterrados simulacros de vida 

vestidos de sin-nombres

listos para la inevitable partida. 

Ninguno queda vestido en diamantes.

Ninguno salta la piedra de oro. 

Ninguno empluma hojas de jade. 

Todos se secan, se vuelven sal y polvo.

Sin-nombres encarnamos otras serpientes

y adornamos otras cotorras 

con pieles de Santos.

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