by Belinda Cai
we once spoke the same language
I was 宝宝
you understood me
I understood you
as my Zhōngwén slipped
so did we
no longer tethered together
by words and culture and necessity
sometimes I didn’t want you to be my
Mǔqīn
your words became foreign over time
not because I didn’t understand
but because they cut me
and mine cut you too
I’m sorry
I wish we spoke the same language again
one of tenderness and holding each other
through the night
______
Belinda Cai is an L.A.-based writer, poet, and musician. Her writing has been published in VICE, Tinder, Hobart, Car Crash Collective, Dream Boy Book Club, Midcult, and more. (Instagram / Substack.)
[GO HOME.]