By now,
the scab should have fallen off—
new skin revealed
—that is what they say, all of them
And I pick at every new scab that tries to form,
opening the wound back up each time it tries to disappear,
I want to feel the warm blood beneath.
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.
My mind overwhelms me with questions questions of worth questions of dreams questions of skill I sit alone stewing in preparation for it to come
Illustration by Scout Mayo My body is a temple of fool’s gold, ornamented with masterpieces of my children’s making, which are hastily taped or glue-stuck
Cinnamon, chillies, ginger, garlic, cilantro, country chicken, cloves meet for a slow dance. It’s the type of modern dance that makes me shiver. My insides