Inside
a pool forms,
slow, deep.
Like walking through a juicer, the liquid is squeezed out
Into a tall glass of sweet truth that no one can see clearly.
So the glass sits, ignored on the counter–mold forming at the edges
A tall glass filled to the brim, abandoned, spoiling, fully alone.
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.
Soloing around town, the wind spirals through her hair, lifts the bottom edge of her dress and her skin is alive. She had forgotten–this side
Swimming in a pool of crimson, she melts, her pounding pelvis contracts: a 3 month reminder now (no longer monthly thanks to modern science) that