Only Art can Save us

To learn a language 

is not only a mental affair;

sometimes you can cry foreign tears

and, after that, 

a magic box in your brain appears 

so you start dreaming your dreams

in all your brained languages

and possess them all for your own 

secret malefic purposes.

I never thought that being so rude

manager of my own personal pain 

had unexpected consequences like

calling you, Art, desperately each night.

--Only Art can Save us! -I cry. 

So my husband wakes up abruptly 

and requires who the hell is Art to me. 

But I'm half sleep

with my magic language box still opened 

so I can only say:

Art is you, my dear.