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| La Casa del Hada |
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| EL LENTE Luz E. Mac�as� Te vi entrar y sonre�.� Recog� el lente. La Marcha F�nebre sonaba al fondo del cuarto. Mi cuerpo sinti� alivio. Ya sab�a de memoria que ir�as a tu dormitorio. Te desnudar�as frente a esta ventana, de lado del inmenso espejo que mudo te miraba. Mis ojos semicerrados te observaban a trav�s del diminuto vidrio que agigantaba tu cuerpo. Fui repasando uno a uno tus movimientos. Los sab�a de memoria. En la cocina mi mujer tarearea la notas del piano que caen con fuerza en mi habitaci�n. Vas dejando caer tu blusa blanca, con encajes en el cuello y en las mangas, a tus pies. Tu falda de cuadros caf�s y tus enaguas de seda con una flor en el seno izquierdo han ca�do junto a los mios. Me estremezco. Las miro con mi ojos amplificados mientras que te vas quitando el corpi�o y me olvido de ellos porque ya haz empezado tu ritual, como siempre. Pasaste tus manos -mis manos por tus senos tiernos. Me sonre�ste- te sonre�. Dijiste algo que no alcance a escuchar por que ya estabas moviendo tus manos. Pann paan pann paann paann paaannn repicaba el sonido de la marcha en mi cerebro; paso a paso te ibas acercando a mi. Tu t�rax esbelto llegaba a mis ojos hasta que me centraba en el pez�n rosado, contaba tus lunares y lentamente te ibas alejando de mi cuerpo hasta posarme en otra parte del tuyo: tu ombligo espacio de semillas muertas, �rida tierra que inexplorable te das a mi imp�vido. Entonces, te vi de cuerpo entero, sonre�as con la misma sonrisa de mi mujer. Moviste el cuerpo como el mio que lento se mov�a con el tuyo.� Mi mujer abri� la puerta y me sonri�. Me mir� con tus mismos ojos, mi lente ojos lentamente se fue agrandando hasta que pusiste tus caderas en los mios; afiebrado por tocarte, deslizaba mi lente-manos palpando lento cada espacio de tu mar muerto. Mis ojos se achicaban cada vez que pasaba por tu boca relamida. Vi tu pubis sonrosado a trav�s de los cristales; te abr�as lenta a mi. Mi mujer se recost� en la cama. Y tu rozando mi piel te fuiste alejando hasta que enfoqu� otra parte de ti. Tu pelo mara�a oscura, bosque fresco, aroma de tierra que te abres para yo gozar en ti; ya volv�as roz�ndome y la saliva obstru�a mi garganta; no cesabas de agitarte. Mi mujer me mir� y me sonri� �qu� haces? Respir� hondo. Hice un esfuerzo por controlarme ya ibas engrandeci�ndote de nuevo. Tus m�sculos aglutinados firmes se contorneaban a cada gesto mio. Tus caderas llegaban a mis ojos respond�a a tus movimientos.� Arriba el cielo plomo ca�a pesadamente sobre nosotros. Y tu sentaba desnuda en el ventanal hacias tu rito. <<<<La tarde est� fr�a >>>>dijo mi mujer. Tus lunares crecieron a trav�s del lente y los pod�a contar. Ibas pasando las manos por tu cuerpo y yo vi�ndote jugar sin poder decirte una palabra. Mi mujer me llamo de nuevo. <<<<Aqui est�s mejor>>>> me dijo.� Me levanto del sill�n. Te miro con los ojos de mi mujer. Sonries, y voy repasando las palabras buenas tardes de aquella tarde cuando sal� de casa para verte llegar. Subimos juntos el ascensor. Mis nervios estaban incontrolables. Otras personas nos acompa�aban. No te pude hablar. Mi respiraci�n acelerada contaba nerviosamente los pisos, uno, dos, tres, cuatro hasta llegar al octavo. La puerta se abri� ya para ese entonces, est�bamos tu y yo. Saliste sin decirme adi�s. C�mo si nunca nos hubi�ramos visto. �O acaso me ignoraste? Te segu�. Caminabas lento, me llamabas con el ritmo de tus caderas. No dijiste nada pero dejaste la puerta abierta. Te odie. Mas sin embargo, abr� la puerta ah� estabas haciendo tu juego. Suavecito entr� y sin que me oyeras saqu� mi lente que enfoc� tu cuerpo. Me miraste de nuevo, ya te mov�as como siempre. Te recostabas en la ventana. Habr�as tus piernas poniendo tus rodillas juntos a tus senos mientras te ibas abrazando y acariciando, e ibas dejando que mi segundos ojos cristales pasar�n por todas las partes de tu cuerpo: tu vulva calida se abr�a y se cerraba ante mis ojos y tu movi�ndote. Relamiendo tus labios osculte tu vajina caliente que se convulsionaba ante el cristal que la rozaba suavemente hasta llegar al �xtasis. Tus poros se abr�an y mis ojos crec�an en admiraci�n por tu cuerpo. Esa tarde te ame a trav�s de mi lente. No dijiste nada. Pero s� que me esperas cada atardecer.� Sal� alegre. Al otro d�a regresar�a. Camin� por las calles del Boulevard, mi mujer tal vez me esperar�a a esta misma hora en casa. Vuelvo los ojos hac�a ti mujer que me llamas incesante acostada en el piso. Te mir� con rabia �qu� quieres ahora?� Nada, acaba de una vez que me has lastimado con los binoculares. Cierra la ventana, -dijo. Sonre�. La marcha funebre hab�a terminado.� Hace fr�o. dije. La mujer del frente cerr� la ventana. [email protected] The Lens Luz E. Mac�as� I saw you come in and smiled. I picked up the lens. The Funeral March could be heard towards the back of the room. My body felt relieved. I already knew you would go to your bedroom. You would undress in front of this window, sideways to the huge mirror that mutely watches you. My semi-closed eyes observed you through the tiny glass that enlarged your body. I went over each of your movements. I knew them by heart. In the kitchen my wife hums with the grieving piano resounding strongly in my room. You let your white shirt, with lace on the collar and sleeves, slip down to your feet. Your brown plaid skirt and the silk petticoat with a flower on the left breast have fallen near mine. I tremble. I see them with my eyes amplified while you take off you bra and forget about them because your ritual, as usual, has begun. You ran your hands -my hands- over your tender breasts. You smiled at me - I smiled at you. You said something I did not get to hear because you were already moving your hands. Pann pann pann pann pann pann pann beat the sound of the requiem march in my brain; step by step you were getting closer to me. Your slender boson reaches my eyes until I focused on a pink nipple; I was counting your beauty spot and slowly you were getting away from my body until I could rest on another part of yours: your bellybutton, place of dead seeds, arid earth which unexplorable you turn over to me, impassive. Then, I saw you full bodied, and you smiled with my wife�s smiled. Your body moved like mine, which moved slowly with yours.� My wife opened the door and smiled at me. She looked at me with your very same eyes which gradually began to grow until your hips were on mine; feverish to touch you I slid my lens-hand feeling unhurried each part of your dead sea. My eyes shrunk each time I passed by your oh so moist mouth. I saw your pink pubes through the crystals; you opened yourself slowly to me. My wife laid down on the bed. And you barely touching my skin started going away until I focused another piece of you. Your tangled dark hair, fresh woods, earth fragance that you open so I may delight in you; back you came barely brushing me and the saliva blocked my throat; you wouldn�t stop exciting. My wife looked at me and smiled, �what are you doing?� I inhaled deep. I tried to control myself and you were growing again. Your firmly binded muscles would sketch any gesture of mine. Your hips reached my eyes, I answered your movements. Above, a leaden sky fell heavily on us. And you sitting naked by your big window performed your rite. �It�s a cold afternoon,� said my wife. Your beauty spots grew through the lens and I could count them. You were caressing your body with your hands and I was seeing you play, unable to say a word. My wife called me again, �You�re better off here,� she said.� I get up from the armchair. I see you with the eyes of my wife. You smile, and I go back over the good afternoon words of that afternoon when I came out of my house to see you arrive. We took the elevator together. My nerves were gone wild. There were other people there. I couldn�t speak to you. My rapid breathing nervously counted the floors, one, two, three, four until getting to the eight. The door opened, and by that time, it was only you and I: You exited without saying goodbye. As if we�d never crossed each other. Or maybe you ignored me? I followed you. You walked slow, calling me with the rhythmic movement of your hips. You said nothing but the door open. I despised you. Yet, neverthless, I opened the door and there you were, playing your game. Softly I entered and without you hearing me I took out my lens, which focused your body. You opened your legs joining your knees to your breasts while you embraced and caressed yourself, and letting my second eye-crystals take in your whole body: your warm vulva opened and closed before my eyes, while you moved. Licking your lips I sounded off your hot vagina which was in convulsion in front of the glass that slightly touched it until achieving ecstasy. Your pores opened and my enlarged eye admired your body. That afternoon I loved you through my lens. You didn�t say anything. But I knew you�d wait for me each sunset. I was pleased when I left. I�d come back next day. I walked by the streets of the Boulevard, maybe my wife was expecting me home by now. �I turn my eyes toward you, woman, calling me incessantly from the floor where you lay. I looked at you with rage. What do you want now?� �Nothing, finish once and for all, because you�re hurt me with the binoculars. close the window,�she said. I smiled. The Funeral March had ended. �It�s cold,� I said. The woman across the way shut her window. Tranlated by Beatriz Mendoza Copyright@ Luz E Mac�as (Colombia, ) narradora, ha publicado Los Pasos cuentos del cielo y del infierno, (2000) y Los fantasmas en el espejo, (2003). Fundadora de la revista literaria La Casa del Hada, desde 1994 y editora de La Cueva de la Sibila. El Hijo Buenitoooo (drama) fue producida por el festival de verano I.A.T.I. New York 1990. Dirigida por Manuel Martin rese�ada por el New York Newsday y prologada por el dramaturgo mexicano Emilio Carballido. Invitada a la feria del libro de Bogot� 2004 y la feria internacional de Miami 2001. Sus cuentos han sido publicados en varios revistas literarias, peri�dicos y revistas virtuales. |
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