mi español is a flood thickening
the mud of my throat ando
bien soaked and sputtering
on the opposite shore even if
I do remember how to swim.

slick fins of silver
syllables stick barbs
into roof gums and
tongue so I bleed little
streams

and whisper through white-
water in the nighttime muy
calladito.

I dare not speak
strongly else eels eat my guts

gnashing an entrail for each
sound I mispronounce.