To keep silent in two languages
Straight through the window it suddenly hits me like a ruler over
the stretched out fingers. I’m in the lavatory at the courthouse.
Someone threw up on the floor. One of the older boys run like
a red thread through the protocols. My face swell up and
emerges among the accused like an archipelago of personal
information. I can see the sea from where I sit. It’s out there, evaporating
salt and decaying leaves. Most signs indicate a sudden autumn.
Born into a massive resistance I learned to keep silent in two languages.