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Showing posts from March, 2026

Golden Age

 Avigayil F "I lived through the golden age," I'm afraid I will say one day. “I saw it split apart at the seams—" At first, it was beautiful: sunlight streaming through the perforations. We thought it gilded plate armor— Only moth-eaten cloth of gold.

Purim Sestina

Avigayil Finkelstein July 2025   “Hearken now to the words of the king,” Proclaim the criers in every province, town, and city. “You are hereby summoned to a feast Where the king’s generosity will flow as wine— In a nearby chamber, a banquet hosted by the queen. Only a fool would choose to stay home.”   On the seventh day, with revelers crowding the perfumed gardens of his home, While his mind marinates in meat and mead, an idea comes to the king, Who struts before his satraps and subjects to summon his queen And parade her, stripped bare, before his decadent capital city. The idea seems wise to a king soused with wine. He longs to see her tread where eyes may feast.   Some time since that fateful feast A young girl turns back for a final glimpse of home. For there is no undoing a decision doused in wine. The law knows no regret, even if you are king. The girl hides inside herself, far from her home in the capital city. Farther ...