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.
Illustration by Allie Olivares Free Woman: Has Become by Sonia Chintha “Do you want to try to have kids again?” Dr. Jenson asked.“No.” A weight
A gentle breeze carries wisps of hair away from my face. Leaning into it, I inhale the nostalgia of smokehouse aromas. All those winters when
“You got fat,” he said. “You got fat, grandpa,” I say but I know it’s not true, he’s not fat am I? When was the