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.
for wearing ties and high-heeled boots for Speaking up for speaking the truth I burp, I curse, I’m hard as asphalt I’m tired of your
Soft orange. Deep, silky flavors graze my tongue and fill it with sweet, roasted squash soup. Few soups have the depth of flavor. Few soups