Multilingual
They're hard to talk to
when the've grown up
and found their own
rhythms, and let's be
honest, there isn't that
much to talk about, but
you crave it- some big
fantasy in which you
sit together, solving
the problems, laying
bare the self, drifting
nearer- a true meeting
of equals in which they
find you as interesting
as you find them, but
then, that's not the way
it's ever been, when so
much of your time was
built around direction
and instruction, and
the clear distinction of
who was in charge, but
they don't need you to
tell them anything now.
They've heard all of
your stories. They're
telling your jokes to
head you off. They like
referring to you by
your first name as if
to say I've got you
figured out. And none
of this is mean. At least
it doesn't feel mean, but
distance, distance is
mean, and you can see
we all struggle with it.
So, you have to learn
to talk in new languages:
the art of the shared
meme, the recommended
song, the asynchronous
text exchange, any
strange, new way to
hear their voices.
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