Double
Certainly it wasn’t I who
last night jogged amid
the suburb houses
dominance, security of
four walls, ambient
with my shirt unbuttoned
like forgotten piety
with my heart surrounded
by the auspices
of the thick darkness
a dream forgetful of its origin
it wasn’t I but my double
who in his bag had hidden
old picture of two stars
swimming in a crystal pond
twin faces, glance of one mirror
and further on: you coaching me
to hide in your arms
releasing my tiredness while
I held the little master key tightly
ready to place in the hole and
open the world like a bloomed rose
Libros Libertad 