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