Her—An Indian Girl

Her eyes

Dark brown

Like chocolate pearls

Intoxicating and sweet

Her hands

Like soil

Fresh, pure

And Earthly

Her palms like sand

Smooth

And soft

But weathered

By rain

And tears

Her hair

Not silk straight

Or coiled in curls

But messy, frizzy

And as thick

As rope

Massaged with

Coconut and Amla oil

Her nose perched

On a throne

Upon her face

Perfect

As though

It was meant to be right there

her fingers dark and elegant

With poise

And strength

She is the daughter of Earth and stars

Graceful but messy

Strong and capable

She is indeed

A desi girl

POEM AARYANA SHARMA
GRAPHIC JANICE KIM