The house was beige
Like a taupe paint swatch – committed
Curtains halfway drawn
sleepy eyelids over every window
Dust particles drifting where the light struggled to shine
He had us sit in front of him and his wife –
She was no bird I can tell you that
At the time I was not sure
Bearded man, black cloak, black hat-
I found it hard to breathe, yet his voice was gentle like a comforting father
After a nightmare – smoky calm, tired eyes in between
Hat and hair
Curvy woman, dressed in their leftover curtains,
She could have baked me a pie
Made warm milk
Nuzzle me in her bosom-
But no
Half bred
Disappointing Jewess
My womb not worthy of Jewish babies
The bird said she’d help me
Convert me
Clean me
Closing the door behind me
Forever
I left the dust to settle