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Mi Ángel Negro
Reapareció dulcemente después de un par de horas, vestida ya solo con un lienzo negro y unas finas tiras amarillas colgando en los cabellos. Parecía salida de un paraíso infernal, de los suburbios del mismo cielo. Cuando se percato de mi presencia, se quedo inmóvil por unos instantes (erguida sobre su propia sombra), inmensamente tierna.
Vacilo, frunció las cejas, y trago un poco de saliva, para después envestirme con su cuchillo cientos de veces sin compasión. Al final, arrodillada y extasiada, sonrió sádicamente y durmió. Mientras yo me desangraba -¡de amor!- a su lado.
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