Vayetzei
one night for your son’s mandrakes,
a tent for this jasmine bloom, I will
bargain the clothes off my back and the
man off my bed and sister, can’t you
see that I want just to be rooted, can’t you
see that I am unmoored & unwhole & I
know, if I cried out loud enough, she would
answer, but I still hope foolishly, fervently,
that this body alone can make life.
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