sometimes we find a common language
and then the dialect changes
and all that’s left is poetry
still tingling faintly
with all the magic
we could not hold onto
words once dripping with honey
ring empty
i am here
one ear to the ground
unsure as always
wondering at how
worlds merge and disperse
how our words became oil and water
narinda heng 
This is a beautiful poem. I love the use of oil and water. I can relate. Even when speaking the same language words get lost in translation.