The task is to fend off death. It hovers, hides in corners, knows my every next move. But I eluded him. It became a wraith, its own illusion of itself. My father told me, commanded me: “Live. To love everything. Now you will see the world rebuilding and take rightful and honest ownership. G-d is behind and in front of all of us. Become the priest that illuminates.” From that moment I pushed myself that every sentence would become a prayer. I learnt at that moment to praise with embrace. Every direction can be growth and movement. Amen. The task is to divide death. Put G-d above and below. Fill my innerds with G-d’s breath. It is a brilliant light that lets live.

I walk a lot when I dream. My arms swing carefree and my teeth clench. Like playing a trumpet with only my mouth holding it. In the careless wind. There are three truths right now. To make my body an offering. To hold guard on the door that only allows kind love to enter this chamber. And to apologize beneath the dream that we are creating together.

When my nape exploded, I entered another dimension; inchoate, sub-planetary, protozoan.

- Rabbi Ronnie Cahana

I singsong my body as its own cradle. Back and up head and down. There is a floating whir on my skin. Only a year and a half later will it dissipate. It’s the skinny skin that crinkles. My eyes stay closed. All of life now will forever be whispers. But G-d’s ear is here.