i love you (lessons in language)

by loren ileana sotolongo

there is mainly a lot of breaking.

i cut a spanish word in thr- ee’s

hot cheeks, small hands,

jagged

work, i am embarrassed.

you cut an english word in- to fo- ur’s

keeping in mind your baracoa classroom, gramaticalmente,

but the pages don’t

line up.

¿how is it, then, that we never mis

translate?

you hold your accent like a promise and the suena of your voice is clear,

straight to my ear, swallowed to my heart. i love you.

i prepare my nervous tongue, a child who loves everything about you (russian nesting

doll, denture jump scares, and your softness for us, the final generation). te quiero.

i hold my rolling r’s to my chest like they are a test and my heartbe-

at sk- ips; i am never prepared.

and then we switch, because we are far and y no sentimiento will be lost.

my kindergarten mouth sings its second song, earnest harmony; i love you, abuela.

you lay back, everything of you enough: te quiero, beba. [alt: corazón de melón. cara

bonita.]

we are both in that rocking chair, holding what we can for as long as we can;

and i always fit in your lap — how is that?

rocking, creaking, back-and-forth swaying: i swear i came out of the womb ready