hyenas with clenched fists

raised against patriarchy against state

proudly raised 

hyenas that sneak around easily

in a country that does not hunt hyenas

because it considers them domesticated dogs

five thousand steps further we harmlessly stroll

longing to feel close

“the woman was created to obey” (my uncle)

clenching my fist but left unnoticed in a pocket

i wave for translation but we are abandoned

Dancing tentatively around each other 

– my uncle the hunter, me the domesticated dog –

set our sights on each other

for the imminent embrace.

my fist tightens in my pocket

embracing my uncle means i would have to expose my fist

I ask the appearing translator what languages they speak

I ask if the uncles recognized the hyena

my cousins are proud greyhounds

they grew up with identity

whoever gives them prizes does not take them away again

their festive dance contains clear step sequences

the aunts carry loving anecdotes around with them.

when i’m buried i will remain their mystery.

clumsily i dance kochari with them

unintentionally the sequence of steps slips away from me

unbalancing the chain

my being is irritation

they are desperately looking for similarities

i hold my tatik tightly, she forces me to wear slippers,

even if i know the words i cannot convey the images

this is all we got