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I thought I saw my sister outside the window, carrying Tel Aviv in her mouth. Making a bracha with her teeth, grinding poems and hair, her jaw opened up and showed the world boiling behind her molars. My Vishnu sister, made of words, needing none. Little and towheaded I’used to pick hair after hair from my scalp to see what I thought was a piece of brain at the end. Sitting in the backyard, eating fistfuls of grass, ripping bundles of yellow What you feel is irrelevant, but What you taste is holy shabbos kodesh salty mouth dirt sister mother yellow tufts of mind
0
Jun 12, 2011
Jun 12, 2011 at 6:52 AM UTC
for jillian
I thought I saw my sister outside the window, carrying Tel Aviv in her mouth. Making a bracha with her teeth, grinding poems and hair, her jaw opened up and showed the world boiling behind her molars. My Vishnu sister, made of words, needing none. Little and towheaded I’used to pick hair after hair from my scalp to see what I thought was a piece of brain at the end. Sitting in the backyard, eating fistfuls of grass, ripping bundles of yellow What you feel is irrelevant, but What you taste is holy shabbos kodesh salty mouth dirt sister mother yellow tufts of mind
as-1
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as-1
American
Jun 12, 2011
Jun 12, 2011 at 6:52 AM UTC
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