What My Tongue Knows

My tongue tells stories I do not remember living.

When I wake it has indents where my teeth have clenched 

to keep my mouth shut. 

I think this is learned behavior-

this need to keep my lips shut.

It begins in my days when I do not want to be too much

and by the time sleep comes

I am still not free.

My tongue tells of a language I do not remember speaking.

Every once in a while my mother-tongue rests easy in my mouth.

It is a tragic love story.

In a world where they were pulled apart

the language was the first to die

and then the tongue.

My tongue speaks a name I presume to be mine.

My tongue is sharp with good intentions

and laden with mistakes.

My tongue laments its cage

and hugs the bars like it never wants to let go. 

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