Tuesday, May 16, 2017

35 toward the Omer

malkhut shebhod

I stand alone at night, remember another, remember older knowledge, remember sharing. Please, could you trust past me more than me? My teachers' teacher tells me my teachers interpret him better than he can himself.

I stumble over a crack in the pavement I've been rolling out over the older road, having forgotten that some things last forever in this dry heat, just waiting to rise, to break up again

I only get there on time because I realize I am too late to get there on my own. I eat ice cream for breakfast to great admiration. It's all I had, I say, pleased.

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