Tip of the Tongue

I have bought my ticket to this language.
I stand in the departure lounge, practice what to say:

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how are you yes I am fine

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but when the collector comes
(the collector could be anyone)
they do not ask how are you
yes
I am fine
they ask, is the universe truly infinite?
what will music be like in the future?
what is your grandfather most ashamed of?
They ask – I have not prepared these questions.
My ticket is worthless. I have been scammed
by the seller at the shuttered till.

‍
But I have waited so many years
to take my trip into this language. How could you not
accept my ticket, ask me how I am?

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Because – the collector converts to English,
all I’ll understand – you have not sweat.
You have not woken in the night with conjugation tables
stamped on the dark like neon through the blinds.
When you have practiced each of fourteen cases,
the branch of subjunctive specific to contempt,
when you are a simultaneous interpreter
of the grief
of partially expressing one’s own thoughts,
when you have stopped the conversation to joke:

‍
haha

‍
to discover laughter is no longer spelled haha
but jajaja
or kkkkkkk or 哈哈哈哈哈哈哈哈哈哈哈哈哈

‍
when the word you beg for
won’t come or won’t exist
then perhaps – they snatch the ticket from my hand,
make confetti – I’ll ask what you’ve prepared.

‍
All the lounge is speaking English now
in accents perfect and non-native.
How are you? Yes, they say,
turning their backs
yes, I am fine