The Edge of Revolt

[Uvi]

One summer evening, thick smoke spreads across the city, as if it were under attack. A blaze leaps across one valley, then another. One structure after another bursts into flames. One field after another melts into liquid gold. Sparks shoot out every which way. From my chamber window you can barely see the horizon, where the hills of Jerusalem meet the sky, because the blue in them swirls around in the air, marred with charcoal gray. Nor can you detect where the fire may have started.
I summon my first in command, so he may call the troops, if he has not yet done so, and organize them into teams, to douse the flames with water, and to rescue the miserable souls caught in them.
Joav comes before me, fuming. His mustache is filled with gray particles that come flying out when he speaks.
“It’s all under control,” he says, even before I have a chance to ask anything--

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Where did the fire start?

[Uvi]

Just this morning I woke up to a surprise: Bathsheba slipped into my bed, wearing a soft, silky robe that glided, ever so smoothly, off her shoulders. I knew she was in a playful mood—if you know what I mean—because of her sudden cravings.
“Strengthen me with raisins,” she murmured in my ear. “Refresh me with apples, for I am faint with love--”

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Refresh me with apples, for I am faint with love

[Uvi]

One day my daughter, Tamar, will stop listening to the dictates of those who wished to hush her. She will no longer obey the words, ‘Shut up,’ which she must still be hearing in her mind, in the voice of Amnon, who raped her. Nor will she obey the words, “Be silent for now,” in the voice of Absalom, who sought to protect her.
The real shame—now I know—is to consent to silence. A day will come when she will transform her suffering into meaning, into words--

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The real shame—now I know—is to consent to silence