13
6
I pick myself
apart, line by line.
A good woman
knows how to love
by definition.
A good daughter
respects her parents
according to the Holy Book.
Good women heal
by staring out at the sea.
Good, I am not.
Hunger
God will not pass by my window
the morning I fill myself
with emptiness, refusing even a drop
of water. He will stand from afar
watching the walls crumble,
unwilling to pronounce
the horrible decree
of openness - to be ripped apart
like a letter, or its envelope.
I will sit on the bed, unmoved
by Jerusalem, its ancientness
a horrible jab in the stomach.
Everything breaks or is breaking
or has broken, I will scream
but He will not hear me. Even God
cannot understand the hunger
I have long inflicted on myself.