Tell me, what have I not done?
What part of me is incomprehensible?
What language in me do you refuse to learn?
In talks with me, what words do not come across?
I’m not to blame – each word has its own story
those refusing to slip cleanly from my mouth
must then carry some history with me
and that’s for us to work out.
I may not always be available
but in those reasonable moments
when you work to catch me
you cannot say
you do not know the history of why,
when I say your name,
my voice quivers.