That knowing look
at the right time,
wordless
that nod to silence
that embraces you in your weather
without gestures,
that
,
without merit,
that furtive caress
in the corners of fear,
without invoices,
this madness on your right,
this reflection on your paranoia,
without reproach,
in the skin
with wrinkles on your age,
time ... no time
...
of "feelings of a stranger," Francisco J.
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