OXIDO

                                                     
                                                                     Dimanan tus jugos
                                                                     dispuestos,
                                                                     saben de las fronteras
                                                                     del óxido,
                                                                     engranajes que no ceden.
                                                                     Brotan raíces que secó
                                                                     el silencio,
                                                                     ese terco impostor
                                                                     que callado fustiga