dust

the dust distributed in the air by the fast cars passing near me

when I cross the street filled with dried leaves

the dust laid on the leaves and the smoke unloaded by the cars

on my body and in my hair

I wash my hair, the shimmer left on my locks remains on his body as well

the water melting my cuticles carries the history of bathing

the history of palms drowning to disperse my reflection

Astrida Neimanis says What would understanding ourselves as bodies of

water change about how we care for other bodies, and other waters?

flushable toilet paper

my tears are flushable if I dry my face clean with toilet paper

if we are all bodies of water, perhaps we have all, always, in some way, been potentially at sea

if my name in turkish means seaside

perhaps, next to me, you were always closer to the sea

I have never worn your wrinkly linen shirts

because in the summertime I’m the saddest

because in the summertime I kiss the shoulders of someone that goes to another sea

and I raise myself on my tiptoes to reach the sunglasses placed on his forehead

and he is raising on his tiptoes so I could never reach them

if my name means the seaside

that’s how I explain my sickness

how my body drowns as a rock under a gigantic wave

the dust placed upon the objects that I hoard and attach myself a little too much to

to throw them

I collect stickers, train tickets, festival tickets, post-its on which my workmates

wrote we love you denis

I collect pieces of fabric, pen-written napkins

things touched by you and which I never forget from where I got them

I’m afraid of seeing your name on the cargo trucks

in the city’s graffiti

when I was little I used to write wash me on my neighbour’s car

what if someone would do the same and write your name on the back of a car

the cuticles are soaked, the hair gathered at the bottom of the sink

you’re drawing a heart on my thigh with sweat.

the yellow and heavy blanket upon me

I was afraid of sleeping alone one night after a couple of years of not peeing myself in bed

my siblings showed me that labyrinth game with jump scares on our new windows xp

I started crying so bad full of snot and sweaty

they took me to wash myself into the blue bathtub the spider-man underwear quickly got wet

my leo mother was in Germany

every time she returned, she smelt like something I sensed only at lidl

I hated sleeping alone I was afraid of the ambulance that would steal kids by offering them sweets

I knew I wouldn’t fall in their trap I didn’t like just anything I was picky

you used to give me a candy out of the pocket of your grey overalls

always full of lint and always minty

I was disgusted by you I thought you had never washed your hands

everyone disgusted me except my sisters who would

always smell like avon tropical shampoo

but I took the candy anyway because it was the only way I could sense any trickle of affection from you

you would make me hold the nail whenever you had something to fix

and although you would never hit me

I would hold my breath a couple of minutes until you finished

working was your specific way of showing affection

sometimes I thought that your love for me depended on how hard or how much I worked

I worked only to get your attention and for you to tell me to go to sleep at the end of the day because I had finally done enough

that was how I knew you were proud of me

in that beginning of spring cold night I had to sleep with you

you smelt heavily of tobacco and wore crocheted black pants

a white undershirt through which I could see the hair on your chest

you let me watch what I wanted on the TV because you fell asleep very quickly

you were breathing heavily and were very agitated in your sleep you were muttering words that I could not understand

it was dark and I turned to face you

I could only make out your front teeth flashing in the neon light from the garden

the yellow and heavy blanket upon me your heavy breath

I feel the tip of your knee hot on my spine

and then your bones upon me as a second even heavier

even hotter layer

your long hand almost covering my face

I jumped from beneath you very quickly and I fell on the rug touching the dirty socks with the tip of my fingers

you didn’t react in any way you didn’t wake up you didn’t yell at me

I was very scared

I left you to sleep by myself and we never brought it up again

maybe you were thinking about my mother or maybe you were dreaming about embracing someone

maybe it was really I whom you held tightly in your arms and, finally, I was no longer afraid of you

the yellow and heavy blanket upon me immerses me into the mattress

your hands can no longer reach me

my body beneath your body morphs into the dirty socks that you turn inside out

the lint-covered candy is melting in my pocket I would never want it again.

(translated by Crina Neacșu & Denis Prodea)