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Chanukah Miracle

By on December 7, 2015
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Chanukah 2

As I heard the sound of your bare feet and the opening of drawers coming from the kitchen, I wondered if I could get away with taking my shirt off. “I can’t find a cork-screw!”

“Never mind. I’m already boozed up from the party.”

“Yeah. Yoni and his friends are a bunch of alkies.”

You stood in the kitchen doorway, a shadow reflected in the moonlight. For some reason, I found my eyes glued to your ankles.

“Come, let me show you my Israeli flag.”

You took me by the hand. It lay there: a huge white blanket, with two blue stripes, and a large blue Jewish star in the middle, on top of your bed. I kissed you, and you fell back, onto the blanket. I pulled off your shirt, my lips on yours, and allowed my mouth to work its way downward. I grew drunk on your nipples. You kissed me in a way I had never been kissed before – or at least, not since I broke up with my last boyfriend, Jeff.

As your hands worked their way between my thighs, I wondered what could be a more glorious miracle than two people exploring each other’s bodies. Where was the ritual to publicize the pleasure of your lips on my lips, your thighs on my thighs? What other proof did I need of God’s kindness?

As we fell back on the now-despoiled symbol of Zionist pride, exhausted, you whispered, “Happy Chanukah”, and pecked at my neck. I laughed and took your hand. When I woke up, our fingers were still entwined. I snuck out of bed, and spent a minute examining the beauty of your naked body, spread out over the Israeli flag, before going to pee, and wondering if it would be unethical to slip a bit of your toothpaste onto my finger in an attempt to brush my teeth.

I dressed quietly, and scribbled a note explaining that I had to rush to work and hadn’t wanted to wake you. I stole a final glance on my way out of your room, and on the threshold between your apartment and the stairs, remembered to say the appropriate blessing, the one I had been reciting over candles for the past four nights, while my stomach craved some latkes: “Blessed are you, Oh Lord, King of the Universe, who has granted us life, sustained us, and enabled us to reach this occasion.”

Amen.

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Shayna is a native Manhattanite whose interests include Torah, human rights, and poetry. An avid procrastinator, Shayna spends most of her time on Facebook, or watching any game involving the Brazilian soccer team. Brasil para Mundial 2014!
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