Oleander Head

Oleg came to the apartment.
We sat, drank and talked.
I decided to start. that I want to start.
I told him to take off his shirt.
Felt I do not like the writing on the boxer shorts he was wearing.
He went to the bathroom and turned them Inside out.
We went out onto the balcony.


Who has the power over the body?
Who decides about it?

Kibbutz Galuyot Rd. in Tel Aviv.
Racing cars on the asphalt to my left and to my right an urban overgrown hill.


My feet are on concrete. It's after midnight.
A fence separating me from the bare ground says nothing.
Only restraining the toxic Oleander From blocking my way.

Who decides about the ground?
Who determines the barriers?

Summer. high noon.
The bright light hardens Oleg's stare.
'I do not like thet blinded look' I tell him.
'Look down', I try. 'Close your eyes' I order.

I took some pictures.
we decided to postpone.


~
Indie Photography Gallery, Tel Aviv


© Yael Meiry 2024