Thursday, September 01, 2005

Sewing Machine


Singer

Sewing machine

The heat was suffocating, the dust burned as if they were coals. I opened the windows and I lowered a little the blinds. The light between brown and orange colored each corner of your apartment. Like every evening, I sat on my ochre upholstered sofa. You arrive as if nothing made you notice that I am looking at you. And I do it, every evening, every night, whenever I feel you close and real.

I have a glass with two ices and dry bourbon in a hand, in the other I have my obsession by you. You sat down in the machine to sew. The Singer droning accompanies you when you sing, when you try on what you are sewing, when you cut the fabric with those so great scissors, when cut and modifies, when you mark with that soap, when you look towards where I am without seeing me.
The dawn observes you like I do, whereas your hands fall. It seems that the forces leave you and you lie down. I will finish my obsession in frenetic dance.
Soon like Pilatos, I will wash away my sin and I will go to bed knowing that tomorrow you will be at the same hour in the same place and I will be in mine.

Máquina de coser

El calor era asfixiante, el polvo quemaba como si fueran brasas. Abrí las ventanas y bajé un poco las persianas. La luz entre marrón y naranja coloreaba cada rincón de tu apartamento. Como cada tarde, me siento en mi sofá tapizado en ocres. Llegas como si nada te hiciera indicar que te observo. Y lo hago, cada tarde, cada noche, siempre que te noto cerca y despierta.
Tengo un vaso con dos hielos y un bourbon seco en una mano, en la otra tengo mi obsesión por ti.
Te sientas en la máquina a coser. El ronroneo de la Singer te acompaña cuando cantas, cuando te pruebas lo que coses, cuando cortas la tela con esas tijeras tan grandes, cuando cortas y retocas, cuando pintas con ese jabón, cuando miras hacia donde estoy sin verme.
La madrugada te observa como yo mientras que tus manos caen. Parece que las fuerzas te abandonan y te acuestas. Yo terminaré mi obsesión en danza frenética. Luego como Pilatos, lavaré mi pecado y me acostaré sabiendo que mañana estarás a la misma hora en tu lugar y yo en el mío.

2 Comments:

Blogger Jstine said...

You definitely deserve a kiss (per your clever "comments" tab) for the little story. BTW why the Spanish translation?

Hugs, J

12:11 PM  
Blogger Stiletto said...

Hi Justine,

Thanks for reading me. I translated every story because I´m spanish.

Glad reading that you liked it.

Kisses,
S.

2:54 AM  

Post a Comment

<< Home