My name is Eva Cheraisi. I have a deep, unquenchable love for writing. Sometimes I write poems, sometimes stories, sometimes think-pieces and sometimes my work resists definition. I’d love to share that with you.
- for immigrants and children, masquerading on stolen soilIt’s more than dishes tattered with mandazi scraps and grease, more than craters bruising the sky like neglected fruit. It’s more than trash gorging itself gradually at the rim, more than pennies gasping for air as they drown into dimes. It’s more than clothes tattered as the hungry mouth forced shut, more than parchment brittle,… Read more: for immigrants and children, masquerading on stolen soil
- soliloquy for the family of broken-hearted dreamersBrown feet on brown steps preserve cadence carved in woodgrain resounding echoes trapping years in space like spirals inside a trunk or molten wax taking new shape. My father’s feet drag two beats behind my mother’s and mine. My brother’s feet clamor toes cacophonous, a broken wind chime sails and clappers erupting aggressive against the… Read more: soliloquy for the family of broken-hearted dreamers
- in my twentieth fallI pressed my hands into the earth—the dead grass, brittle, snapping under the weight of my palms.Soot blackened the crescents of my nails,the air thick as something just burned.But soot is only another form of paint.Bareness twists itself open,revealing possibilities stitched into its ribs.Periphery becomes perspective. I’m learning the alchemy of language:how a single word… Read more: in my twentieth fall
The Ether 