A Mirror Behind the Clouds – Réka Nyitrai
August 10, 2021
The yellow robe
I had a coffee date with a woman, who was rumored to have lived imprisoned in a mirror by the lion king.
Watch, she said
and started to peel back the many layers
of her face:
a slender antelope,
moon hiding behind the clouds,
the scattered nest of an unknown bird—
until all that remained of her
were the dried rays of a sunflower
fallen on the white tablecloth.
Like a spider
of past evenings
I saw you
from a rose stalk.
Your soft, small body
wore nothing, but a window.
Through you I could see
the reflections of
lost sunsets & a gull
pecking at my lips.
Before falling in love
A heatwave kept the citizens indoors.
A water fountain occupied his dreams.
The bugs in his gut rebelled.
Doctors investigated his abdomen and found nothing.
The TV weatherman was predicting a short autumn:
A girl he used to chat with finally arrived—
he prepared baba ghanoush and they read poems.
His neighbor captured their moans and placed them in a jar.
Whenever he watched porn he dreamt about his ex-wife.
A fly landed on his head.
He would have liked to take a day off just to watch clouds.
One evening he realised he was ready to submit:
he let the quince bush drop its heavy fruits into his mouth.