Hungary you tell me that sometimes you google the immigration process to countries whose languages you know you'll never be able to learn-- you tell me Hungarian isn't a romance language or germanic-- that it's Uralic & neither of us know what that means but we know we could at least get lost in it-- i trust you because sometimes i want to wipe my body clean of all traces of myself-- it's not that i don't like my life-- it's that i'm curious-- i'm curious of millions of iterations of my tongue? what poetry would i write if i had spoken hungarian instead of english? would i have written more about meadows & flowers? would i be less infectiously nostalgic about your barefoot backyard worlds? i'm getting us two plane tickets with the last money in my bank account-- become untied with me-- let's make new names-- are there churches you want to visit in Budapest? let's lock arms so we don't get lost from each other-- i'm okay with being no one if you will walk with me-- exchange vows of silence-- i can feel the lights from the széchenyi chain bridge dripping into the danube river-- we fall in too & cut out our tongues to let them swim as fish-- we get more & more distant from our old lives-- from the green mailbox on noble street-- from the broken blue & yellow glasses on the red speckled kitchen floor-- the sound of thrashing corn melts into water churning around us & when our tongues swim back they speak perfect hungarian-- soaked we emerge-- night is genuflecting-- it's saturday & tomorrow we will have to find a church for you-- we stop a young couple to ask for directions to a hotel to spend the night & they think we belong here with our english fed to the water-- with the river slicing our bodies in half-- what rivers have divide you? where do you go to wash off the sun? the couple gives instructions-- walk up two blocks & on the left there is a a step-ladder you can take all the way to the front lawn of the moon-- they paused to add oh & welcome home welcome home & as we walk away i put my arm around you & say welcome home welcome home in a language neither of us will ever know