A young woman, a Jerusalemite style, with a generous white rush on her shins, “how beautiful she is,” I was wondering while catching beats of hers. Her-sandals, her-dress, the dirt under her-nails. Mountains girls, we call them here. I met few men who genuinely one-love, as you can address to a fair maiden. Some have been sent away… I was taken to the burial cave of Abraham, at times before the wall, when we played in the vineyards of Hebron under the August sun 👒. Shy moose roam freely. A cat on her seventh soul found a place on this white land of rocks. We were listening. Can you listen to the tweets? She was there. I see her shining, even if she didn’t give a stranger-chance to love, as she is. Months after, on the bridge nearby, I found a woman who asked passersby to light a candle for a man’s sake. For her friend’s father. 3 disturbed women asking for prayer in the place where passersby examining each other decent shoes. How wonderful is that.
Photo by Katie Aun
