all the pieces
they add up—to desires, deep yearnings of belongings that are not mine to have
they hover, slap me with icy fingers,
each time I look in the mirror
so I follow the clouds, eyes exhaling hunger—an empty vessel, I sweep the sky strapping myself to each cloud
an empty embrace of pieces I will not possess
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.
Two vacations, both alike in dignity, In fair Springfield (where we lay our scene) From annual girls trips to surprising spouses, Where civilian illness and
I resist. Each month. Same day. I know it’s coming. I know the fix. I know how to be comfortable. Still, I resist the comfort.