Luz


Entre calles de gentes y colores colgados de ventanas, en portales
Se inunda un sueño en soledad.

Te busco en cada estampa que mi memoria graba
En cada huella perdida,
Con esmero, te busco en los colores, en las ventanas, en los portales
En las miradas pasantes, en las rumorosas fuentes
En todo te busco, te busco, te busco.

Como el viento que peina mi enredo,
Siento un aliento cercano, deseo,
Siento el silencio y su tempestad.
Siento el silencio, el deseo siento
Siento tus manos, y la luz de tus cabellos,
Siento el latir que duele, el latir que corre y su tempestad.

Oigo más cosas que nunca
Cuánto más decido callar.
El mismo idioma no, el mismo lenguaje, el silencio.
En aquél silencio nuestro mariposas yo puedo gritar.

Ellas salen furiosas del vientre y se instalan en la boca
Preparadas para escapar al primer suspiro del alma,
Ellas se instalan furiosas, mariposas furiosas.
Las siento tan furiosas… tempestad, mariposas.

Con tus manos imagino un collar que al aire mueva sus piezas,
Respirar ese sueño imagino, sueño solitario, esencia mía el soñar.
Esencia mía el soñar, soñar tus manos, mariposas
Me devuelves la vida perdida, la inocencia pasada al pasar.

Renaciendo va mi ser en el manantial de la miel que fluye,
En tus ojos la luz de un manantial de miel que fluye,
Me devuelves la mirada, tu mirada inocente al pasar
Y tus manos en el viento vuelan, silencio y mariposas.

De tus manos y mi pecho, carne y miel que suenan, 
un laúd que suena al aire, y mi alma... manantial de miel,

Pues decido soñar tus manos,
Silencio y mariposas,
En tus ojos, un manantial de luz,
Y en el vientre... mariposas.

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