Speaking in Tongues (Poetry)

I learnt to breathe in Romanian
but I swallowed the secrets of English with my breakfast
sprinkled German consonants on my lunch
and took small French sips of my champagne

And now I cannot unsay
or jump in tangential arcs from one rooftop to the next
with gleeful glance at the abyss
rushing up to stun me at every move.

At times I fear
to speak at all in words
of more than one syllable.

But if, by the side of a poem,
there is a sharp intake of breath, that too
is the echo of my mothertongue.

6 thoughts on “Speaking in Tongues (Poetry)”

  1. I really like the images here, Marina Sofia. Such a great exploration of what it’s like to be multilingual…

Do share your thoughts!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.