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.
I’m at the edge of my seat, clutching my phone because I can’t think of anything else to clutch. Between breaths, I glance at my
Last week I went to my first Kundalini Yoga class. The instructor kept saying that Kundalini Yoga is about balance. I love this idea of
little puffy clouds large puffy clouds pillows large and small atop fences, cars, and tiny tree branches white, kind, brief white cotton blankets carpets unroll