Once at a museum in the city I saw a piece of concept art where the creator cut her tongue and then painted the wall with it, red smudges blooming, diluted by white plaster. The minutes glazed over like water and I had to leave the room and wait for everyone else to finish, the inside of my mouth awash in pinpricks of flame. What a kind of love, to bleed out, to diffuse and call it soul. Call it meaning. In the lobby I felt so unfortunately intact.
Leela Srinivasan is an MFA student at the Michener Center for Writers at the University of Texas at Austin. Originally from the Jersey Shore, she holds a BA in Psychology and MA in Communication from Stanford University, where she wrote a collection of psychological poetry as her undergraduate honors thesis. She currently lives in Austin, Texas.