At times, I breathe ice
cold smoke pillows out with each exhale, no fire can melt this breath of lone ice.
At times, I breathe fire
gray smoke escapes my nostrils,
I exhale truth, a truth of liquid flames
—a windstorm of longing to belong.
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.
Warm rays cut through the sunroof onto my arm; it was a forty degree February afternoon. The road was oddly silent and empty. Neil and
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