~ after Remedios Varo, “Papilla Estelar (Star Slurry/Celestial Pablum),” 1958
My lonely office
is to climb the stairs
that stretch
from the domestic world
into a citadel among
the stars.
I have no child, I have
no parakeet and yet
am most maternal here:
one hand turns
the crank handle attached
to a grinding plate;
the other maneuvers
a long-handled spoon
to feed this thin gruel
of stars to the moon’s
pale crescent, shimmering
behind bars. We watch
each other carefully, each
movement lyric and precise:
should each one’s light
falter or dim— moon, woman,
sky— night’s silences
would ring the centuries.
For what it’s worth, I have a poster on the wall very near where I write with Varo’s “Transito en Espiral” on it,