It is 4:50 a.m., so of course I am packing, so of course I am reading.
May 23, 2012 (12:29 a.m.)
(Shavuot thinking)
Overslept.
Just the most important day of my life, and I overslept.
Dreamed too much. Imagined all kinds of wonders.
Didn't want to appear before God with bags under my eyes.
I overdrank of rest. Didn't stay empty enough,
needy enough
Next time I will sleep with the scroll under my pillow
and wake up knowing it.
May 21, 2012
Why do poems/have to be true?
Why does this poem
have to be true?
Why can't you believe
that I don't really love him,
the one with the hair
and the sad smile eye dances?
Why can't I speak of God
and have it just be speech,
talk of sex and
have it be someone else's?
Why do line breaks
reinforce your faith
in my sincerity?
Why won't you let me hide
behind these words
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