I Heard a Conversation
I heard a conversation in a language
I couldn't understand, circling in it sounds
like spices being stirred in tea,
its aroma fixating my memory on scenes
I haven't seen, as if a dream had been speaking
to me in a low-lit room, the voice rustling
the speckled, ebony cloth above.
I could have been a stranger
to the infallible words
spoken to a mother, but I know
my ignorance too well
to be fooled by meaning.