I did not speak your language
until I learned in the dust of play
communicating with shapes and funny faces
then I understood more until
giving away who I was
I embraced your world
step by step accents relent
we pawn our histories
to fit in better like the crayon
is never quite the right hue
coughing scarlet consumptive
we want to be unseen unnoticed
to fly at night when all are sleeping
do not point us out in a crowd
or remind us of who we once were
the immigration of battleworn hearts
denies who we were before we marooned ourselves
in other tongues, other culture
they say you never forget your childhood
what do they know? sitting in the same
room as when they were knee high
the truth is you forget almost anything
except smell
and when you come to hold me close
you ask me why do you cry?
and the cumin of your hair is
something I can never explain
except with hands making
feelings out of air
TheFeatheredSleep 