Tuesday, June 3, 2014

46 toward the Omer

netzach shebmalchut

I hold in beyonddimensions where points are planes, moments eternities. Let's hold hands now. It's noted. Shabbat as niggun: Sound changes enduringly. Shabbat as spinning paper: Drops of color swirl, remain. God says you gave it I took it there are no takebacks. Perfect, I say.

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