Losing a Language
To let go of a language, you can keep in you no more,
Begin by mouthing its letters, back & forth & back again,
Because you try something too many times;
Its meaning gives up on your monotony.
Remember the poems you read, laced in its almost perfect lines
And gulp them down like a cough syrup you needed to heal once,
But the cure tasted was a semblance of too many mistakes & regrets.
Never, I repeat, never allow yourself to bring its pauses,
For filling the quiet between the morning quarrel & the lovemaking at dusk,
Or to curl your tongue like a home for its syllables,
When you wish for closure in your sleep.
Think of it like a trampoline, or an unforgiving town
That throws you around so many times
You nearly forget why you chose it in the first place,
And then toss its grammar into the graveyard of your memory,
With a sigh & some whiskey.
On a night when dreams tumble with peace,
Write down the flaws
Which made you frown in between laughter
And read them like an eulogy that echoes inside of you.
Hush your heart when it leaps out,
Afraid of a storm rushing for the sea,
To hide its thud behind
The prayers in the language, no more yours.
Learn your lesson, wordless;
Losing a piece of your being.