Talking

I get frustrated when reading in Spanish because
          I don’t like the words
          I notice its grammar
          I can’t scan the page
          I can’t read ahead.
I get frustrated when reading in Spanish because I still can.
 
If I had forgotten (like I seemed to have intended to) then I 
wouldn’t be trying. But, despite my efforts, Spanish is stuck 
in my brain. It must have locked itself in before leaving its 
country. And I imagine crouched comfortably in covered creases 
because I couldn’t find it (I would have destroyed it.)
 
But since I couldn’t destroy it, I managed to control it. Like
 
          I never spoke Spanish in school.
          I never spoke Spanish to friends    
          even when they too were Hispanic.
          I never thought of myself as one.
          I didn’t like to translate
          (unless someone really needed it)
 
I managed to control Spanish as it were a weakness, a bad habit
to finally break.