the huntresses start their fire
by smashing glass bottles against the wood
hyelophobic glass shards (like hydrophobic water droplets);
most of the fluid turns to the air, turns to air
the girls breathe it in out of bathtubs
and sleep curled together and peeled apart
like pomegranate seeds in pomegranates and also pomegranate seeds
-wormwood: artemisia absinthium
Sneha Mohidekar grew up in Northern California, where she developed an intolerance for weather altogether, although she discovered in moving to Seattle that she does have an irrational love for Washington rain. She is currently a third-year at the University of Washington, and the Poetry Editor for Bricolage Literary and Visual Arts Journal. She has a soft spot for pseudo-surrealistic poetry and purple prose. Her favorite words include drift and luminesce- ask her, she’s got a list.