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Contemplo un océano
y me pregunto
si mis orillas,
frágilmente permeables
contendrán la cicatriz
o si desbordaré
rompiéndome en silencio.
Harta de hundirme así;
Mi tristeza,
marea y rebalsa.
Inunda por dentro mío.
Y ya no hago pie
en mis propias aguas.
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