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Coincidencias

13... Eso decía el número en el llavero de su habitación, al menos eso me gustaría leer. No podía ser más que buena suerte, o al menos eso me gustaría pensar. La encontré tranquila, dueña de sí, espectacular. Yo bajaba medio dormido por un alma para desayunar, nunca supe la razón por la que la encontré en el mismo lugar. Era básicamente perfecta, con el morbo que despierta la revelación de las coincidencias, hablando el mismo idioma que ahora me aferraba a olvidar. Se encontraba vestida para despertar todo lo que pensaba se encontraba muerto, a pesar de que yo estaba convencido que no habría nuevo para desayunar, que serían de nuevo huevos, que sería otra vez cereal. 

Su cara revelaba los años que había vivido, sus ojos las ganas de vivir más. No estábamos para juegos, a pesar de que en esas condiciones me habría detenido a explorar cada parte de su piel, a besar cada centímetro de su cuerpo, cada peca sobre sus hombros. Sus formas eran perfectas, delicadas y el cabello dorado como el trigo del verano fuera de la ciudad. No había nada que experimentar, pero aún tenía algo de inocencia, aún le daba por buscar. Nos habíamos sido francos con las miradas. No pude contener esa forma en la que se dirigía a mi. Un segundo intento frente a sus ojos me hizo ganar.

 Quería desnudarla, abrazarla, tenerla. Quería liberar el cielo y abrir la tierra, no quería pensar en nadie más. El café se perdió igual que el resto de la comida. No me interesaban más. El mundo eran esos ojos, esas piernas, su perfume y esa forma de mirar. Buscaba una coincidencia para encontrarla, la encontré fuera de ese lugar.

 Ahora sé que su habitación era la primera del tercer piso, ahora entiendo que las coincidencias suceden y ya...

Lobo extrañando a su conejita...

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