I’m not here you only imagine me

I need enough hooks to hang my words on
I am hospitable to fleas
and once
where the air was caged
I was an untasted fruit
now
I carry false papers to cross borders
with the one I used to laugh with
I can hardly keep up with her slowness
the papers contain words
that used to be constipated

only the shadow of snow
was able to perceive
what they held inside:

humidity, acceleration, reception,
or a wish
that what ever you hope to turn around was going to turn around –

the poison on your fingertips
seeps into me
around the corner
waiting for the wind
to take us further away
on its own accord

***

Gabor Gyukics is a Hungarian-American poet and literary translator. Gyukics has five poetry books, four in Hungarian and one bilingual, Last Smile. Gyukics has completed nine books of translation including A Transparent Lion, the Selected Poetry of Attila Jozsef. English is Gyukics’ second language. He lives in Budpest and is currently working on a translation of North American Indigenous poets for a Hungarian anthology. Gyukics’ most recent poetry book was published in Hungarian by L’Harmattan Press, Budapest, 2011.

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