I refuse to look you in the eyes when you speak to me in spanish.

Instead I watch your lips.

I watch how smoothly each syllable rides off of your bottom lip. I watch how unharmed your tongue is.

How it is not cute,

Not torn,

Nor strangled

Like mine when spanish words try to escape. I watch how your mouth stays so clean.  It does not spill the obnoxiously bold liquid of disconnect

Like mine does...

Your mouth runs with intellect rather than foolishness

Like mine does…

I watch your mouth to see the evidence of what I should be.


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