There’s a white void here that I don’t want to leave

A pink eye bleeding a blue pupil

A heart spilling from the hands

A black circle eye

There’s a white void here that I don’t want to leave

And Annette, woman of freedom, treads lightly.

There’s a white room here that I don’t want to leave

High-ceilinged, grey wood tiles,

Annette gazes at the heart spilling from the hands

and a big joke compared to she who holds the heart.

Annette understood that her freedom is the real joy

So during an episode of love she will feel trapped

as though there’s no room for her to walk upright

to parade proudly in the streets of Jaffa

her golden hair blending with the sun.

Sometimes she is beset by thoughts of tough

love. Together we strolled through the gallery and we saw sky,

cerulean horizon, and white clouds coiling over the sea.

Now Yefet Street is backed up in the direction of Bat Yam

and Annette has vanished into the sun.

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