To a Language

| by Adara Marie Shrestha

I abandoned you like a child on the friendship bench

The playground was a jungle of other intelligence

Kids would read books and literature

But they could never read you

And I’ve spent hours climbing the vines of Shakespeare and old news

When I was 7, I went to Canada and

The airport wasn’t a business but a wonderland

And now I’m waiting with my passport expired

In order to read you again

You promised me life and you gave it

Now who am I to hate the longest gazes that I have

Enjoying the beauty of your eyes

Deciphering gerunds like catching fireflies

It is in my best behavior to apologize