Categories: Poetry

The Washerman’s Son by Adreyo Sen

A white square.
A diary without its covers.
He caressed it in his dark hands.

So much love.

“Give it to me,” I said,
“Or I will not be your friend.”

The washerman’s son looked at me mute,
Then he handed me his love.

I walked out
Followed by his wordless screams.

I did not return.

# # #

Adreyo Sen recently finished her MFA from Stony Brook, Southampton. Her interests lie in magic realism, fantasy and Victorian Literature.

contact@dimeshowreview.com

Recent Posts

Pandemic Moon by Joy Mahar

Joy Mahar is an emergent writer living on the outskirts of Detroit. Her work has…

4 years ago

75 Percent by Ivy Almond

They received a much needed shower this morning: bare branches of trees, Fall's fallen crushed leaves,…

4 years ago

Aubade with Persephone by Jen Finstrom

“Persephone is having sex in hell.” –“Persephone the Wanderer,” Louise Glück This isn’t hell, but…

4 years ago

Helpless by Thomas Elson

“Again.” “Again.” “Again.” “Once more.” Her son slid down the wall onto the hallway floor.…

4 years ago

The Innocent by Vasvi Kejriwal

He told my Ma I was too young to know what a tumor felt like.…

4 years ago

Jodi’s Eyes by Stephen Banks

“Don’t leave the backyard, Jodi!” “Okay, Mommy, I won’t!” That last conversation echoed in Sarah’s…

4 years ago

This website uses cookies.