tiferet shebmalkhut
Ohio. The family gathered outside in three units of two chairs each is ready for bed, but there is still wood on the grate, and there is no plan for dousing, and I don’t want it to burn down alone without warming anyone, and she
stays here with me. We go inside, get grape juice and spices, bless you. It is hard to get shadows onto my palms from this angle. We sit again, the Big Dipper above us between the trees. Fires don’t die, I say; they get released.
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