waning gibbous by Corina Yi

opened windows & slipped piano keys

into the city’s mouth, regurgitating

a sickly childhood sonatina. composition


always like the twirling of newspaper

wings, the pattering of an abrupt

monsoon shower, a cab-yellow monorail


rush, shopping for honey butter chips,

shark ice cream, & a kind of fantasy

where i could dangle lingo fluency from


molars and pool backstrokes. if i hadn’t left

on your birthday, i imagine your face

would kindle gold instead of chalk in my head:


shafting streetlight through a crossroad

interlude between now & then.

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Corina Yi is a student writer living in Oahu, Hawaii. She has been recognized by the Alliance for Young Artists and Writers and was a mentee of the Iowa Young Writers’ Studio ‘21. She enjoys swimming and watching the sunset.