my cheek is cool against the glass/ the sweet smell of roasting corn reaches me/ and i lift my head/ momentarily sacrificing my respite from the heat./ the rustle of playing cards to my left/ is the chorus to the flap of a butterfly’s wings/ that shimmer in the sun./ the giggle sounds out from somewhere/ echos in my memory./ sharp summer sun with/ the comfortable rumble of thunder behind us/ and then i’m a little girl again/ with the clouds strapped to my feet/ my father’s wings carefully strapped to my back./ when i fly high/ my mother’s love shields me/ from the sun’s wrath/ still pure and untainted./ the gods look down on/ us and smile/ their admiration over in a flash/ whisked in peaks of bitter sweetness./ and somehow, i am no longer stuck in paradise/ but in the back of our backyard/ with the smell of sweet corn drifting past my nose/ and for now, all is well.

Maitreyi Parakh (she/her) is a teenage, Indian-American bisexual poet from Seattle, Washington. In her spare time, she enjoys creating obscene amounts of oddly specific playlists, researching her latest obsession, and making far too many Ocean Vuong references.