Zahav, you’re the shimmer in my midnight drive,
Gold dust spinning in the Tel Aviv lights;
every beat of your heart’s a sabra synth,
honey on the rim of a summer vinyl.
We drip like wax down the clocktower,
laughing in Hebrew, kissing in autotune—
your name a coin I flip into the sea,
it sinks, it rings, it sings back to me:
Zahav, stay, stay, stay,
let the sunrise wait,
let the city melt,
let us never cash this moment in.