Challah.

I want to eat the bread my mother
never made. Challah. Challah.
I want to savour all the history
that I never had…Challah. Challah.

I want to bite into that crust,
and savour all that mystery,
And grow into the me
that might have been.…

I want to dream the dreams
My mother never had.
And warm my flesh under
the Olive Trees,
and tan again.

Our blood will run
warm liquid gold,
And walking hand in hand,
Just me and she,
Our hearts may beat again,
And golden we shall be.

Challa. Challah.