Thought runs its uneasy course.
Loneliness is my arm in the sun
back fatigue
it's my free fall
under the acacia tree.
The silence of the afternoon
It is not the same as the one at night.
A sun drawn in pencil
takes over the clouds
that cross in herd
to the land of dreams.
The plantations of my mind.
The electrical storm of memories.
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A veces leo.
Magician
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