In Margaret Atwood
Ice Palace Another
ice palace. Another semi-
paradise where all
desires are named and created,
and then met. Hotel
might be an appropriate label.
is not made of glass and steel
marzipan, golden-tinged water and gelatin
opal which
shining phosphorescent deep-sea fish such as
might think at first. No
are only dreams, are just clouds of breath
that
articulate in words: celestial bed, the breakfast buffet
.
invisible hands that bring food,
arranged sheets, display lights,
make violins sing a lullaby sweet
air, clean hair
you left in the shower porcelain
and leave a rose on your pillow
when you're not there.
Where is the fearsome beast
runs the show and longs for the kiss? Where the bodies
once
were attached to those hands?
Behind the scenes, there's a butcher.
see red petals on the floor.
expect to be petals. Do not open the only door
prohibited
which is the sign of
authorized personnel. Do not look
in the last room, the smallest,
oh dear, better not look.
Margaret Atwood ("The Door", trans.'s Somacarrera Iñigo)
Photo: Parque Centenario, Buenos Aires, 2010
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