Naturally
“This, therefore, was death?” he asked as if he had just
returned from there, holding in his hand the ancient,
silver candlestick, lighting the dirty sheets on the large bed
onto which a few drops of sperm were drying.
All the rest weren’t heard at all, sunken in the buzz
of a powerful motorcycle, stopped exactly under
his window. The echo put out the candles. An
envelope seemed to slide in the crack of the metal.
Libros Libertad 