Woodlouse

¿What is this feeling?

Of folding into myself like a woodlouse

Of my eyelids growing into giant pools

Of my chest becoming grey marble

Of my hands trying to fly out the window

Of my throat coughing the letters of your name

Of my arms falling down the edge

of the page

like ancient waterfalls

Of my feet driving themselves to you.

.

.

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(Julio 2026)