Unhinge the photographs
we licked as
children
tongues in Sarishvili
unhinge
the dead foxes in photographs
kids
that talk Swahili and eat jam.
Jam and Persian ponies-
If I tell you there's no traffic
jam at 4 am in Skopje or no jam in jars, hot suns and super-novas
Will you eat
Me up?
Like air-
Unhinge paper clips or just an eye-lash
and indigo photographs of Romania
In 1963
If I tell you there's no earth-
quakes,
Unhinge Vlach alphabet, breaths caught on cameras
I the darkroom-
when we licked
our photographs of
world chimeras and natural-
yes, natural disas-
ters.
Unhinge.
Lips and nasty
weathers, rain outlets and
rusty sonatas-
Unlock your hair
to
me.
Unlock your hair
to
me.
In one of the mosques in Sarajevo
the cats talk Sanskrit-
Unhinge,
not us in the darkroom licking indigo languages
and scrambled worlds,
but
the sparrows
from
the
sycamore
branches.
Even
they are
sick,
we
don't
speak
our
language-
s.

Afrodita Nikolova

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/unhinge/