always going wearing a black sacred
invisible step, and your tan
begun
you left me in the DNA of my curly hair. Your hands
years
grooves and they gave me milk
moderate heat, combing my scrambled
head and you put candy in my mouth.
You were tired of life and in your fingers mounted table
roof cats entertained.
occupied all Masses of the twelve, Paul take
like you in Teruel
the convent of Santa Clara,
for troops Lister.
Grandmother gave him a hug
my early childhood.
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