Tulips by Tammy Pineda

The Daily

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Along with the daily feature articles from our columnists, read works from our past contributors in the categories of prose, poetry and visual art, alongside interviews and other musings.

 

Rain

Updated: Jul 19, 2020

TW: SUBTLE DARK THEMES


i) Today, it rained. 


ii) Today, it rained and I drank tea with tints of ivy. 


iii) I rest in an unseen motion, enthralled as the bright blue disappeared behind the glittery gray and twinkling white. As the salmon pink turned dark purple, as the red in the sky bled translucent drops, all the colors there but not, absorbed in a cotton bloom of sorts.


iv) I sat as the cosmos abandoned a teardrop on my craving skin. It burns the ache in my bones with a fire so lush as if the bursts of lava seeped beneath my veins and stirred a demon in slumber, which wriggles in discomfort. 


v)  I shift and reach out my palm directly in the path of the muzzle, the melody shifts into a higher note just as it touches, gently tears through my tissues. Reaching so deep, a scream or two escape unnoticed. 


vi) I stand under the rain, attracted to a destruction so beautiful, it makes the acid in the rain feel like the shredded glass which once pierced the sole of my feet.

The ruin of lost lives left photographs with frames, had seduced me with the voice of a ghost who still holds me so, so close.  vii) I twirl in an euphoric glee, the sound of my anklet complimenting the whooshing wind, insane with the idea of being free from the shackles of sanity, for sanity can mean queer things, none of which I need.  viii) I whirl with my fingers reached outward, hoping for a glimpse, a touch, a hymn or a burn on the ink of my skin, for us to make art before becoming one, for I asked you to wait and you told me to live.  ix) We were never good at promises anyway.  x) I faint.

Written By: Priyasha Sinha https://www.instagram.com/_floatingwords_/

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