28.05.2025

You asked me

To wait for you 

In my smooth, modal dress

The one, you'd always said, just shyly seemed to note the valleys of my body–

The dips above my hips

The curve of my lower back

You asked

That I wait for you 

In our golden chair

Which made its way to me

All the way across an ocean

And a sea

All the while, the 

Soft scarlet throw sent to us by my mother, still miraculously 

Crumpled upon its seat

You want to know

If I'll wait for you, now, 

As the evening sun falls- surrendered to the blackening hills of the Galil

And I will

I will wait, 

Red lines, now drawn 

Down the delicate pale of each arm.