In 1974, at least 170,000 Cypriots from Kyrenia, Karpassia and Nicosia districts left their homes to escape death. Tákis and Chrystálla were among them.

They arrived as husband and wife
introduced as my uncle and aunty
christening my cheeks with wet kisses
their green eyes, caramel skin and her
silk black hair
adorning her back
ignited a crowd of questions

They weren’t the black and white blasts
on our small tv screen
of faces with lines like ditches
frozen in anguish
and wells filled with unspeakable acts

They wore a smile, sometimes a laugh
always a pressed mouth
when Baba wailed about bullets storming churches
and corpses paving roads

After a year, our concrete backyard erupted
into a village party, another uncle who escaped
played the violin while another
the laouto
drowning the bang bang bang
made by the neighbour’s football
against the tired fence

We danced holding hands
with Uncle Tákis twirling
a white mantíli
as the music insisted on faster
then slower

After a time of stomping in circles
the musicians gulped their zivanía
to heat their fingers for the ancient tune
to bring man to woman
to seed harvest eat
as one ––
only one couple
knew this dance

Tákis was the boat moving in the flow
and current of his wife’s hips
–– the dignity of their desire
filled our hearts with tears

Forty years later
there is no Tákis next to Chrystálla at the café

With streams of grey hugging her back
and those startling eyes
that built a wall of silence
when he left her that night ––
I halve our galaktoboúreko hoping
she will have more than a nibble

My attempt at Cypriot dialect tumbles
between slurps of tsái
while she forages among her words of English

She was told that he’s gone to Paphos
my face must have asked Why
as she tells me the story he allowed
once to escape
between shots of commandaría

Before Cyprus was halved
he was taken by neighbours
who had turned into soldiers
they cut him up too

His anger would spike during dinner
he resigned from being a husband and father
she said he returned to save
what was left of him

An earlier version of ‘Dancing on Shards’ was first published in Azuria#10 (Peace and War issue)

**

Angela Costi is known as Αγγελικη Κωστη among the Cypriot diaspora, which is her heritage and ancestry. She lives on Wurundjeri Woi Wurrung unceded land. She is the author of five poetry collections. Her most recent chapbook is Adversarial Practice, Cordite Poetry Review, 2024.

P76 issue 9: Poetries of place/ displacement/ diaspora/ odyssey: On-line Edition. Table of Contents