Dad told methe Chief Rabbigave a dispensation for Jewish servicemento eat the bully beefin their cans even thoughit wasn’t kosher,so...
this is not a poem about a virus. this is a poem about the sunlight trembling in through the curtains....
But I'd love to sit and drink coffee with you and hide intense emotions behind my shell and long skirt.
I close my eyes so I can’t see
the small space that feels like
a coffin.
While we tend to look down on, or at least pity, those who "see" imaginary beings, perhaps there is something we can also gain from their experience.
I swapped my house in Europe with one in Jerusalem and fell in love with the Old City.
A member of the Tree Of Life community shares her story.
I've written some sketchy things. It's out there. And I'm trying to learn not to be ashamed of them.
