Your City

I’m coming to your city


I’m coming to your city. I wasn’t here for years. I’m Looking at the towering boxes rising up high, drawing a graceless skyline. We used to live there together. We had our daughters. We raised them together. Now they are only yours. How many years have I not seen them? You? Will we ever meet again? The taxi passes Netanya intersection. I Remember our first dates. Now I was supposed to call you, inform my location so that you would leave your home to pick me up on time, so I wouldn’t wait too long. Looking at the mobile. Wireless Silence… You are not calling to ask where I am.

I’m getting off at the Kibbutzim College stop. Remember we used to meet there? Looking around. Looking for you. Yearning for you. Maybe you’ll suddenly emerge from somewhere. Maybe you’d travel specifically on this way, maybe you’d notice me and stop your car, calling me to come back into your life… I’m cleaning my sunglasses. The light is so dazzling. I don’t sense you. Maybe you’re not here at all. Maybe you went on a new job again and you aren’t in the country.

The city

I’m meeting Aviv at Azrieli Center. When he offered this place, my heart missed a beat in the memory of us. Opening my bag for the security inspector. I imagine you next to me, then, in those times. You always had some comment to make to him. What is his fault that this is his job, I used to ask you, why are you making it more difficult for him? Open your bag quietly and move on, I would ask.

You moved on, I guess. I don’t think you remember, like me, what was between us. I don’t think that you avoid visiting our “places” or getting excited about them. They were yours before they became “ours”. You probably returned to the routine of your life, the ones you were full of before you met me, before you shared with me your private space, before the girls, before you expelled me from your life, before all the mess…

Aviv comes and bends down to kiss me on my cheeks, pausing and smiling at the sight, how I stretch myself on my fingertips to reach him. Using the short distance between us to stroke his cheek before he straightens. Good boy, Aviv, caring, thoughtful. Both him and his brothers, my biological children, you have banished, cut them off from their sisters, preventing the children from being an extended family. A shame, but that’s how it is. The biological mother has rights and I, as the extra mom, who raised them for ten years, has nothing to say in the matter. Just to replace the bandages in my heart, bleeding constantly from where you tore the girls from.

Aviv is in a hurry for his shift, and I’m going to a work meeting. Perhaps I’ll manage to make some business from it. I want to pour new content to my life. Nurit said it would distract me from being stuck with you. I don’t think so. If I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind so far, I don’t think I’ll ever succeed. Although there are surprises in life…

Walking slowly through the streets of the city, looking at the display windows and my image reflected on them. Craving for you. I didn’t think the wounds would open again. I thought I was over you already. Though, actually, not so bad. At least they don’t bleed much. A small consolation?

I finished my business. I’m taking the bus to Ramat Aviv Junction, that is opposite to the Kibbutzim College. I remember how you used to drop me off in the mornings a half hour walk to here. I would walk slowly, biting my lips with longing at you (yes, already!), trying to distract myself from the heavy load hanging on my back.

And Hagar didn’t want to come to the mountain…

Waiting for a taxi to take me home, to my hills. How did you name the place I live – Jazmin’s mountain. Not really a mountain, Hagar, just a few scattered hills on which my settlement lies. Probably to you, my dwelling looks like a mountain. And Hagar didn’t want to come to the mountain…

Standing at the bus stop, looking at the road, hallucinating. Maybe you’re passing by in your car, maybe you’re standing at the opposite traffic light, sending an indifferent gaze at my direction, maybe your eyes are passing on me and moving on, maybe you’re seeing me suddenly, maybe your brain is enclosing the bits of information it contains and you realize it’s me, Jazmin, who was once yours… But the traffic light changes to green and your amazed eyes are forced to detach from my direction against their will, as the shriek of the car behind you speeding you to drive on… The sound of the horn catches my attention, maybe through the taxi windows that takes me away from here our gazes meet… Maybe.

Leaving your town. Looking back from time to time, as if I’m engraving your city into my memory. Your memory. Shutting you down. Locking my heart from you. Should I drop the key?

Hallucinating words


Coming Out / Last Part


Diana RossI’m Coming Out


Jazmin curled up in the familiar warmth, instinctively clinging to her protective tenderness, a cheek rubbing at her mother’s chest as she used to do as a child, when she came to indulge oneself at her.

“My puppy,” Ronit growled, kissing her hair warmly, “I feel like eating you, may I take a bite?”

Jazmin smiled. The ceremony was familiar. Her mother was constantly chasing her children, to gash her teeth in them and bite enjoyable bites of them. She remembered how she used to cover her face to protect her cheeks which were in risk. It started with bites in the feet and hips while changing their diapers. As they grew up, there were bites of hands, bites of arms, but the sweetest, according to Ronit’s exuberant proclamations, were those of the cheeks. “Juicy like ripe apples, oh… delicious!” She was dripping with saliva. They burst out laughing, savouring the fond memories. Suddenly, a cloud passed through Jazmin’s face, unravelling the ancient mother-daughter bond.

“What?” What went into her now?


“Your face doesn’t look like nothing. You’re sad again. Or angry, or whatever it might be. I thought that you recovered.”

“I…” Her hands moved restlessly, trying to shape the words her mind conceived. “It… I can’t help but think that… that…”

“That what?”

How do they do it? Does she chase after Or as well to take bites off her body? A jab of jealousy passed through her heart. This awful woman is going to take my mom away from me and I’ll sit aside and shut up? No! I have to fight! Is she missing her mother, that she’d come to snatch mine?

Ronit held her chin, raising her face to her. ” That what?” She repeated.

“She’s probably an orphan, if she’s chasing you.” Jazmin wringed her hands, pressing hard against the crackling fingers.

Before Ronit could tell her not to do so, Sa’ar enters the kitchen. “Hi you!” His face was smiling.

“Bye you!” They both answered as in a practiced chorus. A shadow of a smile came over Ronit’s face. Jazmin kept her expression frozen.

“What’s going on?”

Your mom decided to be a lesbian and embarrass us, that’s what’s going on. Jazmin pressed her finger to her lips, making sure the words did not escape from among them.

“I need to talk to you. Can you sit for a moment?”

Saar gazed at his mother.

“I already informed Jazmin. Or is coming to live here.”

“Where? In dad’s study? Do you rent her a room?” Ronit looked out of the corner of her eye at Jazmin and smiled.

“What are you smiling at? The phone card is working slowly for him. Wait when he understands what’s really going to happen here.”

“What’s going to happen? Something happened? What?” He shifted his gaze from his mother to his sister and returned to look at his mother, all confused.

“Come on, tell him already and we’ll be done with it.”

“Or is moving in with me. We love each other and…”

Jazmin puffed her cheeks impatiently: “What our dear mother wants to say is that she suddenly came to a decision that she was a lesbian and Or was her lover. That’s what happened. Now you see?”

“Ah, that? Foo,” he exhaled in relief, “you scared me, you two. I thought you had cancer or something, that you needed Or here to take care of you. What are you making an issue out of it?” He turned to his sister, “You heard what she said – they love each other.”

Jazmin submissively raised her hands in surrender and left the kitchen.


Hallucinating words

Coming Out / Part 2

Ana Carolina – Não Tem no Mapa (Not on the Map)


“Please rise above the anger you are probably feeling right now and try to be nice to Or so that she’d feel welcome. Do you think you can do it?”

Jazmin looked at her mother mockingly: “You want me to act hypocritically. All the years you have taught me to be honest, don’t fit your situation now, so you change the rules. Brilliant. Really valued consistent!”

“I suggest you stop this cynicism. It doesn’t lead anywhere. Surely not conducive to the atmosphere.”

“What do you want? You come and drop an atomic bomb and expect me to get it calmly? You don’t consult, you don’t ask. Nothing! Like we’re not your children and we have no opinion. We live here too and it’s our right to voice our opinion!”

“Jazmin, I’m sorry you feel that way. I didn’t think you would react like this. I was sure you would understand. I didn’t think that…”

“You didn’t think, you didn’t think, of course you didn’t! You were busy with…” Her mother’s piercing look made her stop the sharp things waiting on her lips. She raised her hand and dropped it contemptuously. “Ouch, there’s no point in talking. You’ve decided already and there’s nothing to do, right?”

“Jazmin… my sweet Jazmin, I didn’t expect such a reaction from you.” So, in the end, turns out that implanting values ​​is one thing, but the impact of the environment is stronger? All the efforts we make throughout our lives to educate our children to go the way we think is right, humane (wumane is better), just go down the drain when they need to digest something different in their immediate environment? Do the values ​​we planted in them fade when it comes to the closest people to them? So it’s not worth it at all. Why bother and spit blood on their education? We haven’t achieved anything. She gave her daughter a thoughtful gaze. Her flesh and blood gave her back two sharpened daggers. She’s not guilty. It’s probably my failure, that I failed to pass it to her, that most important in life (other than money) is love. That intimate, deep, wonderful emotion between people who love and no matter what gender they are – same-sex, bisexual, queer or…

Last part on 15.5.20

Hallucinating words

Coming Out / Part 1

Petshop Boys & Dusty SpringfieldWhat Have I Done to Deserve This

A story in 3 parts

“You’re not really going to do that!” The anger and insult in Jazmin’s voice could not be ignored. “So that’s why you deported dad from home so you can get a lover in his place?” When the hell did that happen to her? When was she able to “fall in love” with that woman? They never… they always behaved normally. I didn’t catch them in awkward situations… Occasionally Or would stay the night, but I never thought they did it… I always thought it was like I would bring my girlfriends to sleep over. I was sure that because they worked together, they preferred to conduct their discussions or consultations or whatever, in a homely atmosphere, rather than in the office. I would never have imagined that all this time they would f…

“Don’t talk like that! You know that’s not true. I didn’t expel your dad. It was a mutual decision of two people who realized there was no point in their life together.”

“Do you think I buy it? No way! You expelled him so you can live with this woman!” And now you’ve ruined my life completely. How did I not notice that they were holding hands? I always thought it was such an innocence, out of friendship. Friendship, not something else! My mom is a Lesbian! Phew! Why is she doing this to me? I never caught them kissing or anything, but if they slept together, they probably did more than that… Ugh! It’s really revolting! Two women doing it. I want to throw up!

“Don’t do it dramatically. At the time I didn’t think of or as a lover.” Well, that’s pretty close to the truth. At that time I haven’t yet dreamed that my love for her has a chance to materialize. I didn’t know who I was yet. “Jazmin, I hope I brought you up in the right way, that is, to accept every person as they are, even more so your mother. You understand that…”

“I really can’t hear these stupid-crazy-psychologistic rubbish!” Jazmin defiantly covered her ears. “I’m not ready to hear that!” Where did my lesbian mom come from? What did I do wrong that I deserve this? “If that’s why you struggled to get your academic degrees, if I were you, I would give them up. These learned scribbles make no impression on me!”

“I don’t think these are scumbles. I’m just trying to update what’s going to happen here.”

“What is going to happen here is that a sexually frustrated woman has decided that she is suddenly a bloody lesbian and without any consideration decides to embarrass her family. This is what is going to happen here!”

Ronit shot her daughter a meticulous look. She felt she’s going to lose it, but restrained herself the best she could. “If we were in a movie scene right now, you would have been slapped so hard, that smoke would have gotten you out of your ears! What do you think to yourself, that you can be cheeky to me like that? Is this the education you received from me? What…”

“Really education! The educating lesbian! Such a terrific imparting of values, great! Really impressive, you can…”

“I suggest you keep your mouth shut so you don’t regret what you said later.” Ronit’s voice was subdued.

Jazmin gestured an ‘it’s a waste of time’ sign with her hand, but held her tongue. Ronit tried to stroke her shoulder, but Jazmin dodged her with protest, turning her insulted back on her.

“Jazmin, sweetie, this is not a way to behave. We need to talk about it, not sweep it under the carpet. It’s not going to go away. It’s a fact. I’m a lesbian and there’s nothing to do against it. It’s not a disease. It’s me.”

Jazmin shook her head from side to side, refusing to listen. Ronit wasn’t going to give up. “I decided to come out of the closet because I feel I have to do it. It’s not a whim I suddenly came up with. I had countless struggles about it. I didn’t get up with it one morning and…”

“That awful Or must have chased you and drove you crazy until she could convince you that you were like this, to get you into her bed. Clearly!”

“What are you talking about? Where did you get it? What a rich imagination you have! It’s my personal need and it doesn’t depend on anyone. Who chattered it to you? Lesbianism is something inherent to us. You can’t be convinced to be a lesbian. Either you are or you aren’t. You can’t get infected with it. ”

“I think that you weren’t happy with dad. I’m guessing that not sexual either. Have you ever been happy with any man? I mean…” The curiosity on her face was so obvious.

“I know what you mean,” Ronit disrupt her fiercely, “but I don’t think I should discuss my sexual life with to. I just explained to you that I was going to live with the woman I love and that’s it. I have no intention of getting into a discussion with you about my intimate life. I don’t think it’s your business! As I don’t go into yours, don’t go into mine, clear?”

Jazmin gazed at her helplessly. The recognition of the pointlessness of trying to change reality stood in front of her as a great and annoying sign of exclamation. “I understand that there is no hope… that nothing will change your opinion. What do you care about our feelings? About the shame?”

“What are you talking about? Are you ashamed of me? What is there to be ashamed of?”

“You… phew! I have no strength for you! Why are you pretending? Like you don’t know how people will react when they’d learn about this. Divorce is one thing, that is still possible, the whole world is divorcing today, but living with a woman? This is another issue. I have no idea how… and the gossip – I don’t know how I’d cope with it. ”

Ronit sat, leaning her head on her hands, looking at the blazing fire, wondering if it’s possible to turn the clock back and lead a quiet life, with no useless storms. The fire chips flew in every direction. She felt the burns and they scorched a lot. My daughter, my own flesh, a part of me, whom I raised to the glory of individuality and feminism, suddenly cares what the neighbours would say. Where did I fail? All the years of education I invest in her, as if they had never been.

Part 2 on 11.5.20

Hallucinating words

A Chorus of Female Voices

This piece was first debuted as part of The TMI Project: MHI in Ulster County.  Visit The TMI Project’s website to learn more .

Que Será, Será, is Zelda’s (aka Judith Z. Miller’s) humorous, sobering, hopeful multimedia one-person revelatory performance that chronicles her personal story of the joys and challenges of navigating non-binary Queerness from childhood during the 1950’s to adulthood. Zelda is the recipient of an Arts Mid-Hudson Individual Artist Commission to develop the show to premiere in Kingston, NY at the Hudson Valley LGBTQ Community Center on December 7 & 8 as a workshop production. It will include an adapted version of “A Chorus of Female Voices” as well as the previously published “Sheitlestock”. You can learn more about Que Será, Será and support its development here.


I’m 8 years old. My parents take me to see the movie “Some Like it Hot” starring Marilyn Monroe. It’s a fancy theatre with plush red seats. We’re in the very front row of the balcony, high over the orchestra.  

A thick shiny brass railing protects us from falling onto the people seated below. Marilyn is singing ​“I’m through with love, I’ll never fall again,” ​and as she​ ​breathes in deeply through her pouted lips to enunciate her words, I can see the details of her full breasts through her tight-fitting, completely sheer gown. I’m standing up, gripping the bar, leaning all the way over the top as far as I can, trying to climb​ into​ the movie — to immerse myself between Marilyn Monroe’s breasts.  

After Sappho

This is an “after” poem in response to Sappho’s “He is more than a hero”.

Woman with wax tablets and stylus (so-called “Sappho”)


The man sits beside you,
a protective playful arm
draped over what can only be
mine when the stage lights turn off;
both our hero and the villain.

I sit still on the opposite couch,
holding a pillow embroidered God is Good!
only moving to accept each plate of cake or fruit
your mother offers from the kitchen,
praying the sugar on top is not salt.

Onto the stage she comes- again-
with the unnecessary second tray
of sweet plantains, hoping to catch us
holding hands or sacrificing babies-
whatever it is people like us do.

Then stage right, Prince Charming stands up.
His part played so perfectly, even I am fooled,
when his lips pucker out to meet yours
for the grand finale,
and my throat tries to swallow my tongue.

The curtain closes on the image of
your mother, smiling from the kitchen.

If he stays, death isn’t far from me.
If he goes, death isn’t far from you.



This piece was first debuted as part of The TMI Project: RUPCO.  Visit The TMI Project’s website to learn more .

Que Será, Será, is Zelda’s (aka Judith Z. Miller’s) humorous, sobering, hopeful multimedia one-person revelatory performance that chronicles her personal story of the joys and challenges of navigating non-binary Queerness from childhood during the 1950’s to adulthood. Zelda is the recipient of an Arts Mid-Hudson Individual Artist Commission to develop the show to premiere in Kingston, New York in the fall. It will include an adapted version of “Sheitlestock.” You can learn more about Que Será, Será and support its development here


It’s 1999 in NYC. I’m on my way to an annual celebration I look forward to all year long: a party especially for Orthodox Jewish women who are attracted to other women, sponsored by the Ortho-Dykes, and playfully named “SheitleStock,” after the “sheitle,” the wig that married Orthodox Jewish women wear to cover up their real hair.  

Although I was raised fairly secular, every year I anticipate being with a whole roomful of “Ortho-Dykes” sneaking secretly away from their cloistered homes, downtown, to a great big rented room, where the lights are low and the music blasting.  This is supposed to be my first time “packing” in public. Packing a dildo, that is. Tonight I’m feeling good in my male body. And convincing too, in my genuine faded-green Air force flight-suit with a neck-to-crotch zipper pulled down to show off my naked hairy chest. Plus I have my scruffy moustache, both created by gluing on my just-trimmed pubic hairs — totally realistic.