Unorthodox Linens Are Best Enjoyed Medium-Rare

The baker’s girl cuts pastry in the valley, her
wild, lemon bangs flickering into the hills where insects scull
clean through the slick and Father’s blood oils the cattails.

It’s a sour aroma, she sings.

Three mayflies and a wasp chirp in amity.

So does the Mother of it All, raw-boned and braised by Uncle Royland’s lake;
who yawps luxurious fumes over where the mounds trombone and
butcher off.

The Son, in his meantime, mellows beneath the basin carcass;
savors the thick scent of his sallow family.

The baker’s girl craves it also, but with the
wasp alone
she slices something

sweeter.

Ujwal Rajaputhra is a writer, artist, and senior at Montgomery High School, in Skillman, NJ. He’s published more poetry than fiction – despite preferring the latter – and isn’t sure why; an ambiguity of identity usually drowned under the tides of poor music taste and stormy midnight moviethons. One day, Elon Musk will shuttle him to Mars, and Ujwal will gaze at the Earth wondering why he ever worried.

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