Mono blanco en la nieve

He despertado con la misma ansiedad de cada mes. Atrapado en la misma botella. Estoy cubierto, estoy desnudo, no importa. Conozco ahora la rutina sobrevivir a lo que hay afuera, aunque nunca vaya a salir. No hay diferencia o distancia, cuan grande o pequeño sea el camino. Sigo siendo un momento, una señal, un punto. Le he ganado al tiempo y me muevo despacio. Despertar al alma sería imperdonable, pero hago el suficiente ruido para que sepa que sigo siendo yo. Sólo por hoy en un momento, en un señal en un punto. Sigo siendo yo. Un mono blanco en la nieve

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