By Lisett Tapia
Nobody knows
who went up there,
who put the rope
in the top of the cliff.
It was a man
or a young girl
who expect
a warm breeze
or a kind letter?
They lost the hope,
lost the light,
whit the sun,
whit the moon,
whit the sky
in the middle
of the night?
They dead
in the morning,
the rope closed
his eyes...
Or only is
a rope in the cliff,
the wind brought it
and I imagine
horrible things.
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