Another tongue

First written in 2016

I speak only little by little
to the ants who carry their secrets on top of their prized crumbs.

I speak only in twitters
to the miners that nest among the orange blossom

And to the frogs, who ‘tock’ diligently in the rain
I sing to them underwater.

I have forgotten though
how to speak to the woman who makes dinner
It’s an easy pastime in my own language
but still, my tongue confuses itself
and my face burns blue .

I have forgotten
how to speak to the girl who lives a room away from me
whose painting I have hanging on my wall
and whose hair I know too well because even though I cannot touch it
it’s just like mine.

I have forgotten
how to hug the man who is wise and speaks in riddles
and sings silly ditties when it’s time for coffee.

I’d rather – sit among the prized crumbs
I’d rather twitter or sing beneath the water
and though I might drown, at least I’ll know
our misunderstandings are unpreventable
and I can sleep easy in forgetting them
when forgetfulness is all I can offer my brain