1 / 2 by Sneha Dasgupta


Awake between the hours that let the sunlight in, 
Through the cracks in the clouds, 
I see slivers of silver that sail into gold, 
The slivers slither down and warm up the ground, 
And I shall sweat bullets through dawn and the morning.


In the howling halo of a half-lifing amphetamine substitute, 
the serotonin kicks in, kicks in, 
Sleep swallows me, swallows me whole 
And spits out my bones in the morning.

Sneha is from India and she studies Social Sciences and Film in Kolkata. English is neither her first, nor her second language, it’s just the one that keeps her awake at night.

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