His Little voice exclaims a ‘no’ while she calmly tries to quell his concerns.
This continues back in forth and they are completely oblivious to the strangers piqued ears closing in on their intimates.
I walk at a slower pace trying to catch the rest of the conversation, magnetized towards their story and the soft melody of my first language.
I smile as I realize that my culture isn’t completely lost on me.
As if I can still proudly flash my membership badge.
It is my mother’s tongue which I once foolishly deemed as irrelevant.
Oh, how foolish youth are.
For I would exchange anything to have listened so intently to my own flesh and blood.
But instead, I, with calestine ears follow strangers of the same heritage.
I can only hope his membership badge will always remain genuinely intact.
And listen to his mother about getting the braces…
