By Saumya Dave
Daughter Dreams
Before arid fate
grips these ankles
and loneliness
seduces my lungs
I’ll offer
who I never was
I hope she won’t be defined
by blood that
cycles through her insides
I hope sensuous syllables caress
her tongue
I hope her arms ache
with the weight of books
I hope she thrusts ideas
against naked paper
stretches out
over black, white
flirts with gray
I hope she never believes
good intentions
are
good enough
Fake
He offers
sangria passion
with fleshy bits
scarlet love that makes
love to me
stroke me like your guitar string
that sighs when
you release
loneliness is stale, he suggests when I fly
wilts pregnant orchids
a corrosive womb
maybe you should wear laughter around your hips
or as a string of pearls
grazing your sternum
as the sky chokes
I’ll place it on my nightstand
next to a yellow photo
of my mother when
she also faked fulfillment
_________________________________________
Saumya Dave is a writer, medical student, and budding feminist from Atlanta, Georgia. Being born in India and raised in the United States has exposed her to a variety of struggles that women face. She uses words to create awareness about women’s issues, ranging from relationships to body image concerns. A student of the arts and sciences, her writing has been featured in The New York Times, India Abroad, Open Beast, and The Lancet Student. When she isn’t studying or losing time on Wikipedia, she is editing her first novel.
