She said “I hear you’re from region”

She said, “I hear you’re from [region],”

the way a stranger might.

And I felt that old, familiar tug,

the dimming of my light.

Because the vowels I learned to shape,

the rhythms I let slip,

are not the ones I used to keep,

back when I first left.

I smoothed the edges, softened sound,

a careful, studied grace.

Hoping to fit on different ground,

to find a welcoming place.

But on the line, a sudden catch,

a word I didn't bend.

And she could hear the foreign match,

a voice I can't defend.

It’s not my mother’s sharp refrain,

nor wholly my own song.

A blended sound, a gentle stain,

where I don’t quite belong.