dear fairy godmother/mother's mother by Eva Cheraisi (17, Georgia)

mother’s cooking never quite matches the original 
no imported spice 
cool new recipe 
or branded batter 
will compare to mother’s mother 

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that citrusy odor wafts up my nose 
tickles my nostrils 
curls my toes 

but in my eyes i’m cinderella dressed up 
for one night and when the clock strikes 12 
grandma’s plate is dragged away along with 
this illusion and mother’s is in its place 

i’m multicultural, a word that means ultimately removed.
disconnected through flippant phone calls misconstrued. mother
and father speak 5 languages each but we only speak one. 

i’ve bitter resentment racked with regret at an error
that isn’t my own fault yet it permeates my illusion 
of existence as i navigate the world 
a child of imposters 
enwrapped in a flag of red white and blue 
in a country called half a home 
im left to roam 
in a wandering state alone 

i wish i was able to lay my grandpa down to rest 
his eulogy feels composed of untruth 
i wish i was able to pass my cultural test 
dispose of english roots formed in youth 

i’m multicultural, a word that means ultimately detached
isolated by miles of ocean and land my blood is mismatched
mother tries her best i’ll give her that 
but i’m finding little solace in the fact 

i’m shifting my weight on a balance beam of insecurity
ultimately i’m guilty of being untrue 
cultural dysmorphia is a wildfire of blue 
magnified my mirage is incandescent
i’m turning a page hoping for semblance of unity
between my homeland and this half a home yet
skimming through the first line i’m reminded no
cinderella fairytale can form sycophant security 

dear fairy godmother 
allow me two wishes 
i wish to enjoy warm citrusy delicacies 
from mother’s mother for eternities 
i wish i didn’t need a translator to say “asante,
nakupenda, nahisi kama mgeni mikononi mwako” 
thank you, i love you, i feel like a stranger in your arms