Yael Globerman

You come at night making the long passage up my stairs, climbing as if upon an earlier woman, the one that came before the very first wife; had she stayed with you, you swear, you’d still be deep in paradise. I am not bone of your bone, am [...]

I The man who almost wasn’t sits down at the table. The woman who barely made it serves him plum cake. This is my home: It is good here. Safe. Mother leans on Father. Father leans on shadow. At night they tiptoe into my room in beekeeper clo [...]

Unlike Icarus, I am learning to fly on my feet. Sometimes on all fours. Still, the longing is one and the same: to row with two revolving arms closer to a burning thing. Five a.m., and the air is stormy. Again, it is dangerous to wade into t [...]

Someone is telling lies, outside and then inside again, in an apartment to which the heart pans like a camera in a documentary film on marriage I’ve been working on for years. Someone stands straight, in front of the mirror and talks to half [...]