14.08.2025

I think I'm dying, and

Not in the way that we all are

But maybe

Exactly in the same way that we

All Are. 

I think I'm dying, and

I can't explain, but it's a 

Sense of the end of things, and it's quiet, 

But nudge-y

I think I'm dying

And, the

Air outside is dense and

Hot, and almost orange like gaseous lava,

And from my window today, I can 

Barely even make out the Krayot across the Bay 

I think I'm dying

But right now, ice is 

Noisily cracking in a sweating glass beside me, and my 

Cold coffee is just, *chef's kiss* 

And as of yesterday, my 

Nails are all painted "Cherry-Pop Red", (both hands and feet!)

I think I'm dying

But this morning I got a 

Text, that some package from Temu  is 

Awaiting my pick-up at Hop Li, and 

On my livingroom wall, 

The sun, through my partially shuddered window has drawn a

Perfect rendering of the tree outside, 

Where the fruit bats hang, and besides, 

Just yesterday, in Shufersal, 

I finally bought a new bag of a 

Shabbat candles– a hundred of them

They only last 4 hours, but

Who'm I trying to kid? 

These days I've unfailingly

Eaten, and am in bed, long before 

They'll burn themselves out.

I think

I'm dying, but maybe 

I still have some surprises left to look forward to,  and

Even if this annoying sense is right,  and 

I am dying, 

My plants still all need watering

This summer's heat has been

Hard on them, too.