Deep inside me under all the layers close to the warm core lies a bead, a pearl sized bead I look to it when I'm alone I examine each side and slant and curve I hold it tight I let it slip Deep inside me under all the layers close to the warm core lies a bead I grab it when I'm drowning I roll it in my palm gently in circles I keep it still I let it be Deep inside me under all the layers close to the warm core lies a bead, a pearl a pearl
Sonia Chintha is an Indian American writer who lives in the Washington DC area. She blogs, writes poetry, and fiction. She is also an English teacher who believes that our experiences teach us more than any test. She is the founder and co-editor of Good Little Girls.
Each time it comes, I run, filled with curiosity and glee, pick up the strangely light box; hopes not quite shattered. It is a box.
Tilt my chin to the skies and envision your skies: mostly gray, maybe cloudy, framed by the pine greens and you— With your bright ass
525,948 minutes Beating, pulsing through my veins That first second like the first drop of a rollercoaster Shooting by Day By Day day one opens: