first time the knife slips, blood blooms
silver on shorn lemons. Amma murmurs

in her sleep & I'm 13 again, hands coming
away sticky when I reach between my legs.

Amma asked me to cook dinner so I do,
teeth brittle from laughing too much;

I thought it would hurt less with time
but my skin still ripens blue-black

(Amma tears holes in the patchwork)

I don’t know the sleight of hand
to make holes disappear. how do you

shake out a handful of cloth, so that
change doesn't slip through the cracks? 

stop by for tea again & you'll find me
standing by the window, nose pressed

against the glass. When the light leaves,
I bolt the windows and –

soft silence descends on our flat.



today I refuse to be flush-pink with sorrow.

mama searches for wine in a sea of fluid &
I think about yesterday. I think about how

subtle brutality can be seen in the curve
of her collarbone, fingers bent askew;

mama demands confessions boiled in ghee,
then wraps gauze around my thoughts.

she tries to prevent the atrophy, kisses wet flesh
& worries about the subtleties of table manners. 




You walk on curled toes, feather-tip footsteps
barely brushing the ground

And as evening draws nigh, I fall to you
dancing with sunset-stained petals

Underneath ephemeral wishes scattered across
ethereal dreams, we lay entrapped

In our web of infinities; waiting

            For nothing.

Maybe we are the space between now and forever
Fleeting footprints upon the Milky Way

Perhaps our promises are evanescent fireflies
wading in a sea of stars


As I press my lips to yours under hopeful skies
I can taste every dandelion we wished on

And it doesn't matter if all we have
will merely last a minute because

            Sixty seconds
            Can become a lifetime

If only one has the courage
To count between the mississippis  





Rachana Hegde is a sixteen year old poet from India who collects words and other oddities. Her work is a study in chaos and blurred memories, and she is dissonant in the company of strangers. Her poetry has been published by The Rising Phoenix Review and The Fem. You can find her reading, drowsy-eyed, or at www.ink-smudgedfingers.tumblr.com.

Sophia Huang is simply a 15- year old with far more thoughts than outlets.