Poetry

my sister and I got them just from growing our thighs and breasts marked as if by tiger claws first they were bright red then with years faded to silver moonlight someone said it was because we were fed too…

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As for Hannah, she was speaking in her heart, only her lips were moving. So Eli thought she was drunk. — Samuel 1:13 In synagogue I pray, my body separated from the men, a glass screen between us: they still…

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It was the absent one that kept her awake at night while the others slept peacefully, tucked up in their beds after another story, another sip of water, another kiss dropped on their little heads. Years later, it is the…

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When El-Natan was born the room swelled like a balloon and filled Jerusalem, my wailing knocking on the walls, my open legs the valleys of the souk and he between them, the rope of our dual history unfurling him. At…

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born not in a hospital not in a bedroom not a manger not ark and wicker not an alley not the backseat not a clinic not the White House born a Sabra— tender, tough in a porcelain bowl welcome home…

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We sit in the kitchen my grandmother, my mother, me listening to the susurration of water boiling on the stove. Once the bottle is sterile, a careful spoon of powdered formula— my nephew needs to be fed every hour filling…

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Then they said, “Come, let us build ourselves a city, with a tower that reaches to the heavens, so that we may make a name for ourselves; otherwise we will be scattered over the face of the whole earth.” Genesis…

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