I’m between languages,
disoriented by different voices;
So many roots to take.
Let your voice develop, they say.

Mother tongue,
feels strange in my voice;
it rarely comes to me naturally,
she and I, a timid relationship.

The foreign one,
comes easily,
I’m building on it,
but, there’s a distance.

The dialect one,
almost never comes.
It’s full of anger and reality,
drained of poetry,


when the Dialect comes,
I speak out ,
the very deepest