When the sky dances above you

     I've been away from my birthplace for quite some time now, over half of my life. They say the water keeps you homesick - one yearns for the water from home. Water is magic. But that's another story...
     There's no way I'll learn how to speak another language like I speak my first. The colors, the textures, the waves and explosions of life weaved into syllables & sounds of my language that I am unable to convey through translation all gather in my chest, threatening to burst out through my tears. The oddest thing happens every time I walk into my native way, talk to someone in my native obnoxiousness - it feels like a thread pulls me together, it's so gooey-pleasant, it awakes me, intoxicates me & throws me into a plane where everything is possible. And so I dream & get drunk, and dance & sing out loud! Such a pattern! - it would make a great dress!

When I read what I write in English, I feel my mouth stuffed with fabric, yards of silk fabric. I can't pronounce all the letters properly. When I read what I write, I hear the accent, see the clouds in my head, feel the fog in my eyes. I still have trouble understanding & expressing the world in English. If both worlds are real, is that a blessing? I can travel between them, change who I am, how many I am. I wonder  ... I always wonder.
Too many "I"s in here ... it bothers me.

art by Michel Ogier