her name was ivy...ivy rosenberg. she lived near me in brooklyn, off of 80th street, near bay parkway.
we never actually met; i was italian, she was hasidim.
but, oh, how i dreamed of her winding her arms around me, holding me close, whispering in my ear. i'd see her walk past on her way to the yeshivia, and dream.
funny, it's 30 years later, and i can still remember her, remember those days, and i wonder what ever happened to the girl whose face forever haunts my dreams.