there's blue smudges on the eastern wall

shaped like finger prints,

streaked down in sorrow-arcs,

curled around eachother like feathers on a wing

there's blue soft cover on my prayer book

noticeably fading off,

like how wind whisks away mountaintops,

just a bit each day, off to sea

there's a blue tint on my fingertips

sweat and softcover

mixed in fervent tfila

make a paintbrush of my skin

and a canvas of the wall

that i lean on when I can't stand

when I can't remember the words

when my body can't hold the yearning on its own

when i can't stand it anymore

there's blue smudges on the eastern wall

faint enough, you'll only notice if you look

prayers making a paintbrush of me


please etch them deep, before they wash them away

Recent Posts

See All

loving counts & the torah of wilderness

offerred at Bend The Arc's post election meeting, 11/5, 19 Heshvan 5781 ~~~ Hey yall, early good shabbes I'm Binya, an organizer in the Bay, and I was asked to ground us in this moment. This moment o