NaPoWriMo: Translation

Your mouth moved, sound
surfing the airwaves, almost
reaching but never breaking
the speed of light

like the slurring arms
of a drunken boxer; all intent,
no connection, lost
in translation

At the crossroads in Shanghai
your racism confused me
the references to yellow turning
to red

Silence is immovable
my phone stays flat,
out of sight, my profile stalks
your shadow no more.