She is a black gypsy her law is love it is the fruit of her lips and when she gives she gives out of her belly ancient waters – running(s) of wisdom from purgatory of lost soul- she loves to find binding the ashes together binding the smoke and flame shadows of all shades shadows of days – in lonely shadows of nights – in longing shadows of scratching and surviving and when she gives the trees bow at her offerings the sky breathe(s) – fresh winds in her direction seedlings jump into germination conjuring up the power of connection the power of affection the power – a simple touch to heal lost souls like mine
I am Eva -former refugee, doctor and a writer. My parents were Holocaust survivors, I escaped communism. I wrote a novel, mixing family stories and fiction. A novel about Holocaust, communism, racism and emigration. What makes people leave, and what happens to the ones who do, and to the ones who stay. I believe these old stories are more important now than ever before.