by Marcela Shine | Oct 11, 2017 | Life BEYOND Breast Cancer, Liya's Stories, Uncategorized
Someone since has sinned – Who’s a saint, Who’s a sane man. Shouting profanities at his misfortune Jesting, crossing himself in a bathhouse. He’s Jewish. Someone crosses a street Seriously contemplating sinning Coming home, shirt thrown sloppy to the side...
by Marcela Shine | Oct 11, 2017 | Life BEYOND Breast Cancer, Liya's Stories
I am a veil, A sheath of newness and despair, A film of shadow and of light, A cover not quite there. I fasten readily to hair, To hats of wool and crowns of gold. I dress the plain, adorn the rich, Praise youth and hide the old. And whether it is warm or cold...
by Marcela Shine | Oct 11, 2017 | Life BEYOND Breast Cancer, Liya's Stories
‘Til tide’s edge touches sand Or beyond it, ankle-deep? Will it roll in Or ebb out? Will it slap me Or dupe me, send me chasing it? And the current – Will I feebly float or will my feet be knocked from under me? Under me. Down…under water, Out to sea… How long will I...
by Marcela Shine | Oct 11, 2017 | Life BEYOND Breast Cancer, Liya's Stories
Stuck my hand into A pocketful of glass Smoothed by the sand Dulled by the sea. They fail to understand How I withdraw my hand Unharmed. They stare in alarm, Concerned, as if I’d been maimed, Or burned. I wonder the same, Unimpressed, and recall that Sharp...
by Marcela Shine | Oct 13, 2015 | Breast Cancer Stories, Life BEYOND Breast Cancer, Liya's Stories
This article was originally published on Medium. Re-published with permission from the author. They swarmed towards me and then past me, a pink vortex of t-shirts, feather boas and every tacky accessory imaginable. And characters: a pink-clad Minnie Mouse posing for...
by Marcela Shine | Oct 12, 2015 | Life BEYOND Breast Cancer, Liya's Stories
Originally posted on Liya Khenkin blog, posted with permission from Liya’s husband, Alexander. The first funeral I attended after being diagnosed last year with stage 4 metastatic breast cancer, was that of my husband’s grandmother. I was 30 years old. She died...