marios chatziprokopiou

 

ʾištiqá:q 1

Hijras2

Black rags of grandmothers

saint napthalene of hallowed closets

the wood on the floor creaking

the little balcony on the verge of collapse, a spectre

the new owner

will coat with cement.

Black rags of grandmothers

wooly heat at midday

your scent like a quilt

and a cool breeze

you dampen my unfathomed night, the night that is of age

you scratch at my snakebodice.

Please do not forget to name me I Return

I Give birth, a bare sweet homecoming!

in(to) your vagina I creep

I take on your form

and we start to

dance

Three widowed Graces

My male head, a freshly prepared treat

on the platter

we tear each other’s hair over who will tongue kiss it

Joy to your seven veils!

Luna de miel3

When father “passed on” — as they say —

I returned from the tropics myself.

And we left

with mum

on a honeymoon

forty-one days later.

The rooms-to-let would not contain

the orphaned one. It was still the beginning of

May. And the only customers

were retired women from the North.

All of them, accompanied by their husbands

who were still alive.

We left

We set off

We found ourselves in the middle of a flatland.

The three girls came

grandmothers made of earth

with hair in plaits—

They uttered their predictions for our lives.

The whole world came

very kind of you, stranger!

in the space of a hitchhiking sip.

We sang sunsets

That very evening, at the mobile home

I dreamt

of a sooty fireplace

myself, the wet wood at fault

and a Saint George-Dragon

jolting me.

(disposing of me) to sparks

I was reduced.

Since then, whenever and if

I see dad in my dream

he either smiles at me

or he embraces me,

Hram4

Little azure girl that twenty years afore

you were watering with milk your grandfather’s bedding, swishing grandchild

Barren you now sweat to saddle yourself with them, a tourist

childless

disowned

offspring

with money

of unknown origin self

creating. Glass-like skin longing to be scratched

Website: “Easter at the village”

(— Does Resurrection ever sound

in the hecatombs of the chests?

For certain, daughter of mine, for certain)

The beddings that raised you, wares

you haggle over with foxes rabbit-sisters

bishops brothers scions and acquired

telesalesmen of the family house.

The years that corroded you, pixels

online pics and you grope around in the hope of finding

and (re)claiming with a credit card number

the mark of shame that bore you.

1. ištiqá:qشتقاق ¨

Arabic term for the word etymology. Literal meaning: breach, separation, rupture.

22. hijras: Hindi (हिजड़ा) and Urdu (ہِجڑا,) […] Southasian cultures […] male biological gender […] female social identity […] 20th century […] activist hijras […] Western NGOs […] official recognition […] third sex […] categories […] beyond […] Εtym. arabic root h–j–r : abandon, denounce, migrate.

3. luna de miel: […] Spanish […] honeymoon […] mensis […] month […]

4. hram: wool-cotton bedding […] Agiasos, Lesbos […] idiom […] Turkish ihram […] iḥrām إحرا arabic […] garment […] faithful to Islam […] psychological condition […] pilgrimage, hajjحج […] ḥarām حَرَام‎ […] holy/sinful […] Etym. arab root h-r-m: holy/forbidden […] Modern Gr. χράμι (bedding), χαράμι (wasted attempt), χαραμίζω (squander), χαραμής (thief), χαρέμι (harem) […]

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