language barrier

SuFrida,
you said,
is a play
on words

but as I sipped
my second
michelada,
lime with the salt-
soaked rim,
I was unsure
of your full
explanation,

Drake rapping
over your words,

and in the hazed
darkness of dusk,
I could not read
lips.

Distracted
by the familiarity
of phrases
that did not delay
in my understanding,
I lost myself
briefly.

Frida on the wall,
Drake in the air,
and you,
patient in language.

I want to cry
out
that I am not
this dull
in English.

What it would
be to have
you know me
in fluency.

Would you like
me more or
less?

Your laugh
brings me back
into the roofless
room,
lamps
turning on
for the dark
as if like
magic.

“Cariño,
you like this
song?”

Shelby Pack is a recent(ish) college graduate who spends her time traveling and freelance writing.

Advertisements
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

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 )

Twitter picture

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

Facebook photo

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

Google+ photo

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

Connecting to %s