languages flow
like rivers,
their currents tugging
at my bones.

i don’t speak them.
i sway,
letting the tide
teach me the rhythm.

i spent last night
with a fever,
burning my skin
like wildfire
consuming a forest.

when the heat settled
just above thirty-seven,
my mind brought forward
the cyrillic alphabet.

my mum taught me —
people are always surprised
she doesn’t speak english.
she grew up in the sixties,
where the syllabus
included russian and latin.

when i was barely six,
we translated the names
of pin-up girls
on cigarette packets.

german came at ten,
english at fifteen.
in boarding school,
i helped a classmate
with french
until he grew annoyed
that i was,
apparently,
effortlessly clever.

italian arrived
through a video game
and now i wonder
how someone
who repeated a grade,
could, without panic,
tear through russian today.

i think i have
my hungarian heritage
to thank.
i don’t stumble
at endless suffix chains,
i match the signs,
ears tuned to every case.
i feel the meaning
of what isn’t said,
map the languages
and treat them like quests
as i search for structure
and logic in them.

so, when the patterns
grab me by my shoulders,
still feverish, still dancing,
i just follow the steps.

Isn't the North Pole just

what its name suggests, I mean:


a pole in the north?

I: "J'ai le cul pogné entre deux chaises"

Je suis née divisé,
one part loves,
l'autre part envie.

Love is my pain, it's also my ladder,
l'amour m'aide à apprendre, à m'adapter.

I envy those who understand
la partie de moi
that I know less of.
L'envie me motive, m'aide à me rendre,

I'm constantly reminded I've abandoned,
une partie de moi
which I've grown to wish I loved.

J'ai réalisé que mon monde
Is a world that hates one another

Je suis coincée entre deux culture
that have barely coexisted
en paix
in our society.

Comment puis-je vivre
When my roots, my example of who I am,

S'étrangle.

II: "Do you understand the violence it took to become this gentle?"

Love woven from violence;
la reproduction d'une violence symbolique
through parts of our lives
à travers notre culture, notre société.

One which divides, unkindly,

on trouve refuge dans nos alentours
in the trees, where the air feels light,
dans les romans, où nous oublions
all the wrongdoings,
le vacarme,
the hate.

III: "Habitus clivé"

Je pense en anglais,
I read in English,
j'écris en anglais,
and I disregard my French.

Un produit de deux habitus,
ways of thinking,
d'agir
to feel.

Autant j'admire que j'haïs,
who I am,
autant je suis perplexe.
Who am I really?

Ma version de ma réalité,
is it really my full potential?
- Non.
- No.

On se comprends,

we feel as though,

on est développé,

unevenly,

et nous le sommes.

That'll never stop me,
de vouloir me connaître
and to learn more,
jusqu'à ce que je meure.

Sometimes the o sounds

open, sometimes like thunder --


rolling down the Alps.

Would a personal

message without emoji --


be without feelings?

geese above distracting pines,
above the endless communion
of spring to brook to river.
given a holy name
brought by stern men and women
from their distant island homes.

an immigrant's wind blowing
bending the limbs low to touch grasshead,
pulling from the ****** earth
the walls among which they slept.

they built to love, shovel and pick,
brick and mortar and
they that built, named anew an old country.  
giving names to capture, change and claim,
and love in their native tongue.

new names married to old,
difficult to spell,
meanings hidden,
musical in their mystery.
baptized in war and glory
mowed low in the fields
a sacred harvest.

the blood of the named
fueling the mystery of the unnamed.
we are nourished by it.
embellishing it with our own weak deeds.

as unpronounceable as the wind,
we become simple guttural vowels
in the living name
of the distracting pines
and conjoined waters.

Tachypsychic you say? Please and  forever ...
Not in to , hard , hot, fast hypersexual semiotics ?
No... Never ?     
Nonculpable ,  innocuous  ineffable  nullibiety of  arousal entitlement.  
Apropos  flocculent euphoria ..

Extirpating chastity. Titillating,
exhilarating sensually inculcating.
Ecstatic metempsychosis. Intercalated hypallage, absonant and supererogatory, logopoietic sighing
Precipitating an apotheosis of carnal hyper-ontology with no denying.

Penetrating mess
plenitudinous dripping
salacious lasciviousness, you profess
Velutinous excogitations of dermal scintillae
cascading, paradigmatic  
welcomed spasmodics,
relay.
Oracular empyrean curvature.
Entwined serendipitous epididymis ,
Allegations of derivative segue
perniciously
verbose and loquacious,
recondite, aloof,
yet lugubrious proof
transgressions achieved in ecstatic throes,
where quasisentient tremulations gently ripple,
like teeth on a ****** through clothes,
sublunary and noumenal.
External cogent coalescing
recalcitrant or vexing.
Yet so hot and perplexing.

Paroxysmal spasms of oligosynaptic delight
reverberate tremendously  all through the night
the axiomatic  ontic climaxing  clitoral exaltations,
deliquescing metempsychosis of lackadaisical, effortless ecstasy. Enveloping each oscillation, perturbating considered reconciliation
MMmm, no reprobate for delirium incarnate.
Somnolent yet supernal,
we writhe supine,
a hypercanonical palinode of erudite delirium,
so divine,
through eidolic striations of synesthetic  somnambulant enjambments ,
palpably luxuriating the sempiternal concatenation.  
innervating  temporal transience .

Glottal glossematic undulations, sublime.
Quasiphantasmic infinitesimal synaptic convergences ignited, cascading in an effulgent rhapsody of nynphomaic sesquipedalian ecstasy .

Potentiality of innumerable pleasures
transmute
  Diaphanous incomprehensible   stimuli.    
Ontological  ebullient efflorescence, for you and I.
Intertwined and inseparably
convolute .
Intimations, lines of love  as  invocations .
  Penumbral interstice of exotic delirium, wherein reality collapses.  Inviting labial prolapses .
Ecstatic . Pristine zeugma.
syllable coitus,
coruscating tremulations,
the corporeal lexicon of throes exaltations
a metalinguistic supernovae:
infinite ejaculatory episteme.
" Again please " I hear you say.
Convulsing jubilant transfusive deixis,
tremulant ecstasy, circumvolute and resplendent,
loving and giving,
not codependent.

Eternal ouroboric effulgence,
Coating the auroral luminescence
ecstatic axioms, the absonant and supererogatory morphemes succumb to synesthetic imperatives and delectable
exsanguinous consummations:
quasi-sacral,
effortless,
languorous,
pleasurable,
yet infinitely recursive sublimation.
Entelechy at nominal! ******* subliminal.

to me,
words mattered
more than acts.
you could pull me close
with a single sentence.
the right phrase,
muttered ever so soft,
could mend
what a kiss could not.

my mind doesn’t care
for big gestures.
they don’t keep me
up at night.
the way you said,
i’ve never had
a real conversation
with her
the way we have,
however, might.