Personame’s home

I asked you to join us in Cambridge. 2 friends and a farewell to share. a man I wish to learn more about, a river that flows through knowledgeable  eyes  and a riddle hiding in between the old walls.

we left from Liverpool street. Michal holding a  bag that contains too many clothes  for 24 hours, I  hold a bag of chocolates. we may need that, as farewells are not my sweet choice. the slower train to Cambridge passed through small villages with a cow planted in a wide green lawn. Small lakes tainting summery day with fresh drops. you are like this, in my Life. can you see why I love you?

we arrived . the lady of the brooklands  B&B told us its about 10 minutes walk from her home. she wasn’t accurate.  she’s Israeli. we walked about  35  minutes  and Michal’s  bag seemed to be heavier, as we approached the back side of the station and Cambridge that was not the  sight you dream about when farewells approach through the eyes  of  Shabbat.

we have  about an hour to meet you and your friend on the bridge. Im exited. Michal is getting dressed and I check our room. our matrimonial room. too many kitschy decorations gives a  false first impression of beauty     like a too sweet chocolate  with too many additives, sliding on my tongue , but   not  reaching my stomach.  the  room is covered with white  fabrics and many ornaments , the owner collected previously,  in a market in Israel I wonder or  a 2  pounds shop in london?. lace fabrics  and sparkly mirrors, little statues and fluffy materials attached to anything that can be tied . I cant tie myself to anything these days  and  so I  watch all of this matrimonial business with more than a few questions, I lay on the comfy bed waiting for  Michal to finish preparing herself and  the  blue ceiling with gold stars makes me  smile when I  think of you probably  wearing your blue shirt right now.

we order a  cab to take us to the bridge point at bridge street. you told  us to meet you there , next to the Turkish Anatolia and to the river I wish to walk inside one day . we walk together Michal and I , almost hand in  hand as the beautiful summer and the  beautiful town, tends to plant love in ones heart. we chat lightly about this wonderful town and our previous and current lovers. the punters humming in a small group sitting next to the bridge and a boat crossing underneath the  bridge with 2  couples and a dinner they share . we  wished it would feel like that in the Turkish restaurant.  the café and pub on the  square were already buzzing with the local tourists of the weekend, a woman with a floral dress walked gently to embrace a  man with blue  eyes, kissing him gently twice. I  noticed  you and Alistair arriving from behind her and wanted to run towards you and  give you a hug, but I slowed down.

we entered the restaurant, a  good smell welcomed us and we set next to one of the  very colorful tables  covered with cloth that reminded Michal of south America. first chat of people who introduce themselves, some met  before  and some  didn’t, little innuendos of first times. glimpses of one eye to another eye. small talk of patterns and colors and scents. Gestures of introduction and I feel it was a great choice to come here. you are relaxed this evening. Your eyes match your shirt and you tell me you like that wine that that goes well with the food here. I trust you. Michal and I are exchanging words in Hebrew , mostly not on the men we sit with but on the atmosphere that gradually develops to a gay tune. We order the food , 3 same dishes and a cuscus. Fresh salads  arrive first  and I  notice  my grandmother wine leaves are smaller. I take the fresh  pitta and dig into the chumus, the habit of using a fork with it still  seem to me a  bit out of  place. even after 3 years in a country that use cutlery sometime with no relation to the origins of the food or the natural movements that goes with it. chumus  need  that  round curvy little movement of the wrist followed  by the smile  I give you when I  think of another chumus I shared with a  tall man and his friend years ago on the top of mount Carmel. and I feel so  close suddenly. I sip a bit more of my wine and I cross my words with Alistair.

the evening passes by and  we exchange many words and stories and thoughts , different patterns  of  conversation are  being created over the very patterned table cloth. I talk with 3 people and with all of them and with myself and I feel that I also talk a bit with my past. you would  argue with me over my sentiments but  I don’t  care right now. I am  looking forward to the rest of this evening as mint tea is served with desert.