Lovely Mistakes

I like it when things are a little lost in translation. Not always. Not entirely. But just sometimes. And just a  little bit. So that the translation makes sense, but sounds a little strange. And words are given a whole new edge, a new feel, a retouch, because of their new context, their new intended meaning. The unusualness, the sore-thumb quality of the word, makes it endearing. Makes it special. Makes it unique to the speaker. It punctuates their idiolect like a flaw in a knit jumper, rendering it one-of-a-kind. And I love it most of all when it comes from your lips. The way the images your words create are quite distorted from the ones in your mind, the ones you intended. But they are none the less beautiful. Unique. Your mistakes that only you can make. Your lovely mistakes.