poems

Black

Sashrika Pathak

Crisp pearl seafoam

Swirled

Onto the burning coals

Of your almost empty

Paper Chalice

 

And when your Aphrodite

From within the froth

Curved to find

The Jukebox

From another century

Your softer shoes

Walked into the 80s

 

Your soul

Singing in blacker eyes

Making your

Thin cup

Seem

Fuller somehow

Your hair

Seem

Longer now

And your face

Less

Pockmarked

 

How

You didn’t belong

In my coffee shop

This Wednesday

Published by Sashrika Pathak

Sashrika is an aspiring writer who dabbles in poetry, long-form journalism, and the occasional social/philosophical rambling. She is completing her graduation in Literature and cameos in a small splattering of magazines and online portals as both an editor and a writer. In her free time, you can catch her guzzling an inordinate amount of caffeine and holding onto a thick crusty novel from another time. You may​ if lucky, even catch her guiltily updating her usually defunct blog (one of many). Controversial, free-spirited, lost in her own head, she floats on a cloud in simple cotton and leads an idealistic life with a smile that masks her painful anxiety. Tune into her work anonymously and allow yourself to moonwalk into her world.

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