Saturday, October 01, 2011


You speak, clearly even, everyone tells you so.  Your words are careful and thoughtful and precise, like you are.

It's surprising not to be understood.  But the day comes, doesn't it always - even if you never thought it would, when you meet someone who doesn't take your words at face value.

Subtitles.  There is talk of subtitles.

And as someone who has spent a lifetime gauging the accuracy and the reliability of subtitles, weaving in and out of cultures, making temporary homes in the honeycomb of language, you find yourself in the delicate position of having to evaluate your own. 

Turn on a bright light, the full spectrum kind, the kind made of rainbows our eyes can't see. 

You will see it here, a shadow that is wiser and more substantial than you, saying the words you cannot.  Speaking of dreams you think you must not have and desires you believe you must not follow.  Silent subtitles you never knew were there. 

 You will realize you've been living in a second language for longer than you thought.  You will understand why feeling foreign feels like home.

What can you say to the person who saw them, spoke of them?  Nothing really.  In cases like this, it is best to let the shadow speak.

Shadows, not just time, take care of things we cannot.