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A Mikve of Your Own

The decision of what Mikve means to each woman, is no less important than the actual tevilla itself.

I wonder about us as a society. I wonder about the civic language that exists but has not yet sufficiently

And that’s me – your teacher, Here before you and what I demand Is to step back a little from

Her own indications give her A feeling.

Grasping the gates, Hunched over Fielding cries after the pain caught within her Something is opening.

I rose early tied by a cord to your wellbeing Which is unknown, To forty hidden days To the fear

If you’re going to pay city taxes At least find a see-saw, Stand in line beside the girls With ponytails

Tonight, it’ll happen, you say The hopes will smithereen, People are already counting backward

Before a baby comes into the cot, They leave her in the field To listen to the jackals and peacocks,

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