Your despoilers will become your spoil והיו למשסה שאסיך
Far away shall be any who devour you ורחקו כל מבלעיך
Your God will rejoice concerning you ישיש עליך אלהיך
As a groom rejoices over a bride כמשוש חתן על כלה
from Lecha Dodi, לכה דודי
To hear glassbreak under Simcha’s right foot / means the shouts will soon follow: good luck
is needed. He rejoices over her, upon her / face until it shines blue. This is no love-
bite or symptom of bliss: my grandfather was a terrible man. / I do not ask my mother about
her platethrown childhood / shards / affixed into sole & sheetrock. // I seat her at the table,
fold her hands into each other / watch: / Safta kneads the evening flour / בואי כלה בואי כלה /
There are other places a daughter should never see her mother from: / the open door, back-
alley clinic / Safta is fevered— a once-child pulled from the womb sickens its mother / a goodbye-
refrain / refrain / refrain / When Safta lost her youngest-born, Orli / she began to join her beloved
in parts: / now & then my mother must mother her mother / wrap in a blanket, slip into her mouth / pills:
an ordeal of bitter water / to remind her body of its own existence: / עורי עורי שיר דברי / the sounds of
so many infrasonic hearts in chorus / ghost so bright—// Through the curtain / I make him listen.
Yael Massen measures distance away from home by the length of her hair. A year ago, she grew out her bangs before graduating from SUNY Geneseo. In the Midwest, her curls are spiraled and deceiving: she’s been away from New York and Israel longer than she can see in the mirror.