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.
On my way to work, over tired, annoyed that it had snowed over night, I turned on the radio for refugee. Instead of music, a
The blame—it stacks high, an unyielding tower of sharp pieces of stone. You assemble and build and construct… So focused on this up surd structure