Between the lines I inject color
Deep pigments of flagrant hues
Ink flies off the page–an eagle soaring in the open skies
And for a couple of hours there’s silence:
No dings of messages;
No sitcom laughter;
No chores yelling for attention;
No problem needing a solution
Just an even wrist shading in the colors of my bloodline.
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.
As a child, I rejoiced in making French braids and high buns out of its thick curls. I wrote my own stories within the impenetrable knots of marriage and motherhood, weaving through her silky strands that seemed to extend for miles. The comb that would agitate my own coiled hair would billow through hers, without the slightest effort.
Swimming in a pool of crimson, she melts, her pounding pelvis contracts: a 3 month reminder now (no longer monthly thanks to modern science) that
Jealousy spreads in her veins dark, grimy, moves at the speed of light, destroys the walls of her veins,