Things I know and things I don't know

This may be an overly logical way to do this, but it's the best I can do today.

Things I know
1. I encouraged you to do this.
2. I believe it's the best thing for you for a variety of reasons
3. I have no hold on you in that fashion and never did
4. Constraints upon your time are going to make create huge changes to "this".
5. I already feel like I wait around for you to have time for me already... that's only to get worse.
6. I have to change how I feel about you, stop waiting around, stop moulding my life around the possibility to talk to you.

Things I don't know
1. Why I am suffering from these dark visions of you and this other woman wrapped together like two fishing worms.
2. Why this is bothering me so much. It's illogical, given the things I know (see above).
3. How to get rid of this hollow feeling in my stomach.

Can you see why I'm so confused?

this evening

somewhere in between
i think i am slowly getting a handle
i am not sure about anything
but then again i wasn't supposed to be
its all part of the flow
the shift of space time and everything in between
is not predictable and not really controllable
the dice are thrown ever moment of every day
and we the blacks and the whites
move acording to the numbers rolled over us
each and every moment of every turn of every second
and all we can do
is
play

yeah yeah
i heard you say pray
funny how close the two words are..

neshikot my lover
this is me
loving you
however i can
because i can
because i do
not cause its wonderful
for i in all my glory and my gloom
don't know how to do anything else
but love you

rights

i have the right to remain silent
anything i say or write can and probably will be used against me in the real world
the world doesn't need me to tell it anything new
in fact the world would probably appreciate me much more if i just shut up
on the other hand... when have i ever shut up
so
i very much do have the right to remain silent
but i don't have to exercise that right if i don't want to

tell me here what you think

Aroma Eilat

Back in the corner again

This time it seems that I'm going to actually live through this.

This is going back on the blog cause I cant write to you directly.

So I guess this is going to be the channel till we figure out something else.

Aroma, beach, Eilat, alone again.

The feelings are strong again

Like I'm seeing the world through the pain again

And it seems familiar

No

This isn’t for you

This is for me

Not cause of you… this is because I need to change into the man I want to be and I agree with you that it's only and totally and always up to me. And always has been and always will be. But I don’t agree with you all when you say that all you need to do is want and it will be. Will doesn't make change will might show the way, might illustrate the need but will will not make change. Only action of the mind can bring about the shift in thinking that will result in a shift of motivations that will bring on a shift in priorities that will change the channels of need that make up the soul.

I need to change the insid

I know that

Even you know that after watching the change I went through in taking my pacifier away from little old me and throwing it under the bus that will drive me off to my new life.

So I'm changing the inside of me

The deep part

And you see this happening and you who feels my pain more than anyone alive cry out in anguish over what I am and what I am not. 

I am sorry my Tinkerbelle.

Alas, Tinker Bell could not explain this, for even she did not know the dark secret of Slightly's tree. Nevertheless Hook's words had left no room for doubt. The cup was poisoned.

"Besides," said Peter, quite believing himself "I never fell asleep."

He raised the cup. No time for words now; time for deeds; and with one of her lightning movements Tink got between his lips and the draught, and drained it to the dregs.

"Why, Tink, how dare you drink my medicine?"

But she did not answer. Already she was reeling in the air.

"What is the matter with you?" cried Peter, suddenly afraid.

"It was poisoned, Peter," she told him softly; "and now I am going to be dead."

"O Tink, did you drink it to save me?"

"Yes."

"But why, Tink?"

Her wings would scarcely carry her now, but in reply she alighted on his shoulder and gave his nose a loving bite. She whispered in his ear "You silly ass," and then, tottering to her chamber, lay down on the bed.

His head almost filled the fourth wall of her little room as he knelt near her in distress. Every moment her light was growing fainter; and he knew that if it went out she would be no more. She liked his tears so much that she put out her beautiful finger and let them run over it.

Her voice was so low that at first he could not make out what she said. Then he made it out. She was saying that she thought she could get well again if children believed in fairies.

Peter flung out his arms. There were no children there, and it was night time; but he addressed all who might be dreaming of the Neverland, and who were therefore nearer to him than you think: boys and girls in their nighties, and naked papooses in their baskets hung from trees.

"Do you believe?" he cried.

I am a believer tink I truly am… it's just that I'm not a good one.

I find it extremely hard to believe that which I cannot understand and that includes first and foremost… me.

That’s why I need you… because I do believe in you…

I don’t always understand you…

I think that finally I do believe in you…

Maybe not totally and completely but surely much more then I believe in me.

And this is the part that I like.

Since I do believe in you and I do respect you I hope that you might be the one that helps me to understand me enough…

To help me believe in me…

Though right now

You are sure I'm crazy… right.

That’s all for now

Six sides

She watched from the safety of the treeline.

He had spent so much time clearing the space.
Chopping down the trees
Ripping out the trunks.
Pulling up the bushes and weeds.
Smoothing and leveling the land with his hands.
He was... breathtaking.
Something to make her heart skip beats.
If her eyes were hungry, her body was starved.

Now as she watched he stood, heavy brick in hand, laying the foundation for the Wall.
She watched him examine that brick.
Check it from all sides for imperfections.
Carefully weighing it in his hand.
Six sides:

One to hide the pain
One to soothe the loneliness
One to dampen the anger
One to show the longing
One to express the frustration
One to dry the tears

And then, having weighed the brick he reached down for the trowel, scooping up a bit of mortar. And the mortar was this:

One part true grit and determination
One part shameless love and endless fear
One part honor and loyalty

He smoothed the mortar over the brick, turned it over, and stood there contemplating. Then he stepped back, looking at it, tears in his eyes.

And she stood in the treeline, torn.
God.
To let him build it or to stop him and leave him defenseless?

So she stepped out into the sunlight and slowly walked to him.
Standing in front of him he regarded her, blue eyes glistening with hope and fear.
Oh God, so much fear.

Facing him, she took the brick from his trembling hand and the trowel from the other.
Then she stepped over beside him and made her decision.
She couldn't change the bricks.
But she could change the mortar.

She leaned down and into the bucket she poured from her heart:

one part selfless love and trust
one part unconditional acceptance and encouragement
one part admiration and hope

and his arms came from behind her,
hands covering hers, shuddering, as they made slow circles in the bucket.
His breath on her neck made her nipples scream.
In her ear he murmured over and over again,

"Tink, do you know what you're doing?"
"I think so, Blue. I'm helping you build your Wall. It's the same Wall... just held together with something a little different. It will look the same from the outside, but from the inside, where only you can see... you'll know it's different."

And the two of them began, shoulder to shoulder, to craft the Wall.
And when she brought him windows, something he'd never used before, he looked at her and shook his head in amazement.
"Windows let in light, my Blue. And warmth. And a fresh breeze from the ocean."

But it was the door that moved him.
"A door?!?"
"Yes, my Blue. A door. How else will I get in?."

Aroma Four

Back in the aroma corner

Hiding from the world

Hopefully this time the few hours I have to myself will not be taken up by someone walking by that recognizes me

Hopefully this time I will manage to say what I have been trying to say for a few weeks now.

----

It was just another normal day

He stumbled out of the brush that actually came up against the fence in back of her house.

It was early in the morning and the sun was still throwing the shadows across the fence into the closely manicured garden.

"Finally", he thought to himself "I made it".

Peering over the wooden slats he gazed into the shadows hoping maybe she might be outside. He knew that when the weather was like this she enjoyed working in the garden.

She wasn’t

He climbed over the wood and made his way across the lawn onto the back porch.

She was sitting in the kitchen and when she heard his first step into the house she raised her head.

"Hiya handsome"

"Hi wonderful" he replied and pushed the door open into her world. "why dont you sit down"

"You sure you don’t mind?" he asked, even though he knew the answer.

"I don’t mind my blue, I love having you here"

"I still don’t really understand this; why she lets me into her life like this, but it feels so good I'm not sure I even want to know why this is happening."

He wanted to say something but no words he knew seems appropriate to convey the gratitude.

She saw him hesitate and she took control. He smiled for the first time in days.

"Why don’t you take off some of that weight before you sit and I will make us both some coffee"

"I think I will" he replied and started to unbuckle the shoulder plates.

The buckle on the left shoulder was a bit bent, must have taken a blow, and he was having trouble getting the strap out of metal square so she reached out from behind him and pulled it free.

"Thanks" he said and she smiled.

"That’s what I'm here for" she replied and he smiled.

Slowly she helped him out of all the armor he carried around on him all the time.

Pieces and plates and layers she helped him remove from all over himself.

And when she came down the inner layers she cleaned and soothed and kissed and healed running her fingers across wounds closing the gaps and blowing pinkness back into the bruises.

When he was down to his intricately patterned briefs he sat down at the table and let out a long breath.

The coffee was ready, warm and thick.

The conversation was deep, open and reassuring.

The sex was passionate, soft and amazing.

And when the time had come she helped him cover back up all the parts and pieces of him that needed protection adding padding and kisses here and there where the leather and metal might scratch and scrap his sensitive skin.

When the worlds they lived in started to seep in, again, he bent over and kissed her gently on the softest lips of them all (they really are) and her turned her face up and blew all the thanks of his soul into her eyes.

He walked back out across the back lawn, over the fence and into the bush.

It was just another normal day

What will he do?

I struggle to see what’s before me
To understand what’s inside me
To learn from what’s behind me

I see others so clearly
But I can’t part the mist that surrounds me
Hides me
Protects me
Secludes me

I fear there are no mysteries
There’s nothing interesting here
For if there are no puzzles to solve
And no knots to pick apart
Will he stay?

I’ve told him from the beginning…
I’m a simple girl.
With depth
And meaning
But no complications

One day he’ll realize that I wasn’t lying
And he’ll stop waiting for me to do something interesting
To present him with a problem that he has to solve
He’ll realize there are no problems
No complications

What will he do then?

More thinking...

I've been thinking...
What do I want from you?
I want it all.
However, the funny thing is, what I want from you
is something I could never accept.
But I still want it.
Badly.
I still dream about it.
Daily.
God this is so painful and confusing sometimes.

?

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beeping

And still alive

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Thunder

Most people hide from it.
Close their doors and trust their homes to protect them.
Afraid of the power.
Terrified of the passion.
Truly afraid to expose themselves to that
which is larger than themselves.
I am not.
Tonight I stand on my front porch
and watch the storm come over the mountain.
I count the beats between jagged light
and concussive thrashing
that signals how close the storm is...
Terrible in its fury
Lost in its own tempest.
Loose and uncontrollable.
And closer with every ice crystal that bounces off my windshield.
I pull my hood up.
Cross my legs under my blanket.
and watch the dance of light, no longer on just the mountain.
God I love this.
And I know I am alone in my vigil.
No one stands here with me.
Waiting for this to slam them in the chest.
Knowing how much it will hurt
and yet waiting for it.
Feeling the weight of it.
Lost in the crush of it.
Willing to be swept away by it.
Screaming my frustration to the Blog King
as he rides the currents above.
Laughing at those below who fear him.
Lauding those who don't.
and taking careful aim at those of us
sitting on our porches
reveling in the power and majesty of his creation.
I am one of the fearless.
or stupid.
who do not fear the Thunder.

What

What do I want

-->I want you.

Why am I here

-->Because I am learning

What am I learning

-->To accept what you are willing to give me

What are you willing to give me

-->That which does not involve Sacrifice

Whose Sacrifice

-->Yours. Mine. Ours.

Who defines the Sacrifice?

-->We do.

Are either of us willing to Sacrifice?

-->No.

Isn't this worth Sacrifice?

-->It is to me.

How much Sacrifice

-->I don't know.



What do I want
--> I want to live in Israel
Why do I want to live in Israel

--> Because you are there

Is that a good enough reason

--> Probably not.


What do I want

--> I want to live in Israel with my kids

Just my kids?

--> That depends on you

Why does it depend on you
--> Because you don't know what you want

Why does it depend on you

--> Because I don't think we want the same thing

Why don't we want the same thing

--> Fear

--> Responsibility

What do you want?

--> You want me, an hour away.

Is that what I would want?

--> No.


Why can't we find a way to make this work?

--> Because it's impossible

So what do we do?

--> We learn to accept

--> We learn to adapt

--> We learn to love a different way

Can I do that? I only know one love. Total. Complete. Crazy love.

--> I don't know.


Why do I keep asking myself these questions? Is it really important?

Thumbing through pictures

I feel like I've lost something that I never had. Missed an opportunity that was never mine. Misplaced a gift that was never given to me. Taken a beating I didn't deserve. Those are the feelings that run through me when I look at the pictures from the party the other night. Other than just plain old green-eyed jealousy when I see pictures of you. and her. Grrrrrr. GOD HOW JUVENILE. that irritates me, too. really thought I was bigger than that. Damnit.

No Words

I've no words tonight
just loneliness.
and distance.
from you.
from him.
from me.

Tonight my heart is stone
cracked in the frigidity
always split in half.
and hungry.
and fragile.
and pale.

Stone for my bedmate
feathers for my feet
blankets of quills.
so quiet.
so open.
so blue.

Aroma three

--------------

Back in the aroma corner

Feeling open

Feeling that maybe I can get this flowing again.

It's been a month since I was here. A month of hard work and stage hours that faded late into the night. And what was left after the bus stopped and the room wrapped me up in the quiet was not enough to light anything more then a quick jerk off and arraignment of pillows into the most comfortable constellation before the quick knee jerk into dream land.

So im here again

Aroma on the outer wall near the door to the train station. And I have the keys in my hand and surprisingly they are stroking off letters.

No

I'm not getting excited

And neither should you. This isn’t the first time it's started to bleed again, only to be quickly covered in a brightly colored band aid.

But maybe I can pick at it enough to keep it flowing for the next week

Wish me luck

---------

Where is my mind today?

Politics

The whole democracy thing hanging over the smoke of the demonstrations and violence that’s flash banging the Middle East.

Emotions

Am I hearting people deeply and much more then intended cause I don’t see anything else but my pain.

Are my words… speaking louder than my actions?

I miss Yarden and wonder what kind of adult he has turned out to be.

Work.

The next group is a major hassle and I need to start getting ready. Will head up to the office on Sunday and start planning. Called David katz who is the operator and we have a date on Sunday. Should get some money from the office too.

Life.

How can I drink tonight and not have to drive home.

Called Armani and maybe he can solve that one.

-----------

Funny

I'm not thinking of you directly

I'm writing to you.

Your question mark is getting smaller.

Fading into the distance behind the moving train like a blinking warning light at the side of the track that has left its message and its ringing sound but has passed and I'm not sure what that particular ringing is supposed to mean anyway.

------------

Question

How many words in a one page exercise?

A bit of checking… between 250 and 300

Actually a few places say 275

I'm going to hold to 300... That makes the counting easer.

--------

Should I put this on the blog... or should I send this to you directly

I think I'm going to blog this

And see if I can hold on for a while

------------

You know… you are the only person in the world that can make sense out of this. 
Does that constitute as love.

No

But I know I am starting to love you in a way that is different than all the kinds of love I have known till now.

And I know that I want you

I want this closeness that im feeling right now to have a physical aspect

And I know there wont be any actual touching for awile

But I can dream of being inside you and that’s making me smile and giving me a hard on at the same time

-------------

I've decided that every one of these will have an exercise in them. They are from a book called… the fiction writers hand book and I just finished the chapter on "sources of fiction."

So here are the instructions

One page

Write a scene of a story from a glimpse you had of a group of people – in a café, zoo, train or anywhere. Sketch the characters in their setting and let them interact. Do you find that you know too little? Can you make up enough – or import from other experiences – to fill the empty canvas?

Objective: get the juices flowing (that’s mine)

To find out if you can make much out of little. If you can, great. If you can't now, don’t worry (I'm not) you might later or you might have to get your stories from other materials.

Check: can you visualize these people farther. Can you begin to hear at least one person speak? If not go back and find a way of talking that might fit one of the people in the group, and carry on from there.

-------

It's just another slow morning at the local Aroma.

They finally sat down at the table next to me.

Not before they had walked back and forth three times evaluating each open table and denouncing all the negative attributes that make it unworthy of their patronage and scowling from underneath immaculately painted eyebrows at those mortals that dare to sit at the few eligible tables.

Both in their mid 60s and compatible in look and outward esteem.

Both upper middle class with artistically manicured fingernails and purses that match shoes or boots in this case since winter hasn’t left us yet.

One bleached blond and the other colored brunette both wrinkled with age and experience.

They know each other well and have been friends for many years echoing each other's thoughts and finishing sentences for each other…

Blonda: "I don’t like this table because it's…

Brunette: "…next to the door, I know how about that one…?"

And as they settle into the designated table b-blond turns to her friend, "can you move to the other side of the table? I need to see what's going on otherwise I don’t enjoy my coffee."

"Sure, no problem" answers the brunette and moves to the other side of the table turning the chair so she is facing her friend just as the two girls walk past.

Head high and backs arched to emphasize the full lushness of their teenage breasts.

One blond and one brunette.

The clothes tight and the flip-flops showing off beautifully manicured nails in bright florescent red and blue.

They glide past once, twice, scowl at the two matriarchs sitting next to me and settle into the small booth at the brighter side of the café.

As I watch the blond one settles into the far side seat then gets back up with a humph. They exchange a few words and she moves away as her brunette friend slides into the side she just vacated and pulls the table back to allow her girlfriend to sit where she can see the rest of us in the café.


I smile.

It's just another slow morning at the local aroma.

----------------

Well… that made me smile

I hope you like it.

Read it twice and tell me what you think

Did I fill out the objective?

Did I paint the picture?

Did I make you smile?

Did I tell you today that I love you?

Do you really think I should start writing again?

--------------

Back to the world

Send me a beep when you are available. So I can move my world around to talk to you.

-----------

God I loved being with you this moring

My latest Blue coat

I tried on another Blue coat this morning at 7am while I was folding clothes. It came out of nowhere, as I was thinking about you. I tried it on though, and it fit pretty well.

I wonder that what you are looking for isn't That Love.
I think it's enough Love Experiences to get you through the rest of your life.

Amazing moments that you can put into a box.
Put the box on the shelf.
And when you need something, pull one out and savor it.

If you gather enough of them,
passionate ones
moments full of unbelievable love
minutes of unending desire

you'll have enough to last you through your life, without jeopardizing what you have at home.

Armor

“Hello?”
No answer but the hollow echo of her words.
She tucked just her head into the large, stone room and, leaving most of her body in the hallway, said again,

“Helllloooo?”
But the cold, moist stones gave back only their dampened repeat, as though she was at the bottom of a wishing well, yelling up at the bright sky above.
She slowly inched into the room, looking around at the walls, ceiling, floor.
Cold, gray rock.
“It’s quite a large room,” she thought. And began to look around a bit more.
“I’ve never been here before. In fact, it never occurred to me that I might be here.”

The figure in the middle of the room caught her eye. In fact, it wasn’t a figure at all, but a wooden armor stand. Roughly 6 feet tall, it stood heavily, solidly, and weightily. She walked slowly up to it, trying to understand why she felt so compelled to touch the iron armor hanging from pegs. Chain mail hood and hauberk hung from the rack, as well as helm, breastplate, greaves, and gauntlets. It all looked so damn heavy. And of course, there was the Sword of Righteousness.

“I’ve never been here before,” she thought again and took the chain hood from the armor stand. Sliding it over her head she felt a disconnection. As if she had lost something…or maybe it was just out of reach? Huh. Next came the hauberk… Now that was heavy. But it slid over her head and settled on her shoulders like it had been made for her. And it covered her heart. Something dulled there. Something maybe didn’t hurt quite as much as it had before. Greaves and breastplate and gauntlets joined the rest, leaving only the helm. The helm wasn’t quite so heavy, but it was… awkward. She wouldn’t be able to see very well. The visor only had a slit for her eyes.
That was the problem with being the Knight In Shining Armor.
Univision.
Blinding, one-directional short-sightedness.

“I’ve never had to be the Knight before,” she said. “But I can do it this time. He’s frightened. And I’m bringing more fear and chaos into his life than he knows how to deal with. I can make it all go away and he can go back to his life.”

But do you know the nice thing about being the Knight? All that armor and that purpose and that sacrifice mentality… makes everything hurt a little bit less. In a way, it’s the coward’s way out. It’s a lot easier to slip that blade between your ribs when you know you’re doing it for someone else. You can even smile while you’re doing it. Because you’re doing it for someone else, someone you love deeply. You can do about anything for someone like that.

I would have stayed with this for years, my Blue.
Seeing you when I could.
Talking to you.
Loving you.

But I’m not what you need.
I’m more and less than what you need. I’m not there.
You need someone there.
But not someone like me.
You need something more superficial, simple, something that won’t put you in this kind of balagan again. Don’t go looking for that Great Love again. This should have taught you something.

But if you do. Find someone. I hope you’ll let me know. I’ll try very hard to be happy for you. I want to know you're happy. I love you, Blue. You made sure of that in Jerusalem. And I let you in. God help me but I did. Those beautiful blue eyes will haunt me for the rest of my days. I’ll always love you.

But I’m letting you go.
You don’t have the strength to do it.
And it’s wrecking your marriage, maybe other parts of your life.
I can’t have that.
But know that you’ve forever changed me.
Opened my eyes and closed my heart to all others.
And I will think of you every day for the rest of my life.

God I don't want to do this.

The Clock

I hate the clock.

I hate the number 7.

I hate ADDING the number 7 to what I see on the clock.

And knowing that as my 2 and 3 and 4 and 5 tick by

the chances of talking to you diminish.

The chances of seeing you shorten.

God I feel pathetic.

This cannot last.

Here I sit

Feeling stupid.
and alone.
So I scream my frustration to the Blog King
while I quietly bleed on your shoes.

But as God is my witness we will either bleed together
or I will not bleed at all.

I will drag from you that which you owe me
measure for measure what you owe this incredible gift we've been given
and let the balances meet for the love and for the loss
anything less and you desecrate what we were
tarnish its memory
and forever color our future
for I cannot trust nor admire a man who cannot stand shoulder to shoulder with me
and accept that blast to the chest for what it is

Do you remember that first night on the beach?
As I walked toward you I knew my life was about to change.
You grabbed me and crushed me to you, lifting me off my feet.
I could feel how happy you were to see me.
Saw it in how your hands shook.
And that first chaste kiss.
"There. That's as far as I'll go."
God how I hoped you weren't serious.
You were beautiful.
and terrible.
and consuming.
and intoxicating.
and my old life was gone. Just like that.

AND YOU WANT TO JUST FORGET IT?!
Let it wash away like it never happened?
Stick your emotional head in the sand and run from the pain.
I won't. I will pick at these open wounds in my soul until
the day you tell me to stop. Because that will be the day
you've given up.

You tell me you're afraid.
OF WHAT?
How the hell can it get any more painful than this, Blue?
Are further meetings going to make it worse?
No.
Hell, if there ARE any further meetings.
I'm not asking you to do anything but feel.
To reconnect with me in that way only you know how.
I can't bear this loneliness.
I can't do this alone.
But self-preservation will eventually win.
If you aren't here to go through this with me.
Then I will do it alone. Completely.
And you will have made the choice.

You avoided me for days.
Yet now you say you don't want time and space
that I'm turning my back on you when you need me.
Well which is it?
I'm confused. And angry. And hurting.
and I'll be damned if I'll go on some list of "needy women in your life" because that's not me.
I'll never be an anchor.
nor a ball and chain.
I have too much pride for that.
Don't ask me to sacrifice my pride on the altar of your indecision.

Findings

I'm finding things in my wishing well
that I hadn't really expected.
Who threw dirty laundry down here?
and vacuuming?
and office work?

Dear god. My whole life is down here.
I'm expected to stay in this cold, dark place
yet move through my life as if He hadn't touched me.
Changed me.
Loved me.

Today I will make it through another day
and tomorrow I will do battle again.
Dear God send me to Israel.

Aroma One

-----------------------------------

Finally

Found a moment

Found a corner

Found the part of me that’s connected to you.

Found a piece of "us" to feel.

Found some of my smile.

At least till I finish the double espresso

and head back out into the winter on a hill.

Thank you.

i will be back...

My Gray Wishing Well

So now I watch my life flicker by
from deep within my gray wishing well

Echoes of Haifa rain down tonight
silver pieces that sing of a hotel room and desire
oh god so much desire

coins kissed by moonlight and city lights twinkle down to me
as easily as he kissed my lips
and ran his hands over my body
changing me forever
along with the color of my world

and what do I send back up
from the gray confines of my wishing well?

Is my bucket half empty
or half full?

do I wish for this pain to end?
what would that mean to me?
to him?

or do i wish to
feel him tremble again
to hear him groan and crush me against him
to feel his lips against my ear
to listen again as he tells me what he wants

how can I wish for this pain to end
when it's all I have of him now?

again, is my bucket half empty
or half full?

and what does it contain?
Is it love
pain
desire
passion

Can I live down here with only the gray echoes
of Tel Aviv, Tiberias, Haifa and Jerusalem...
cities that will forever be different for both of us.
Can I exist down here on what flashes from
his fingertips?

Can I live without him... at all?

My Blue

My Blue
My Israeli Conflict
My Shattered Romantic

This is where we can swim in the hole
find out how deep it is together
sink to the very bottom of it and look around with our flashlights

and decide what to do about it.

first

it started long ago

and 

continues even now

and

here is where we ask

now what?