By espacioreal | elespacioreal | 25 Oct 2021
And the sky was hiding
in a quagmire,
to the passing of the hurricane,
the footsteps of dawn
they woke up in the flames
like a gale that drowned
the caresses of the wind,
when you lie down to sleep.
The high-pitched hiss of the trees
woke up among birds that
they still breathed on the moon
the flashes of the flame
that still breathed deeply
without shelter or path.
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