The Thin Red Line
You searched for oceans
while we lived in the desert.
The strawberries, now,
freeze-dried in my mouth.
The southern tip of the sun
glows beet red.
I saw that abnormality,
on a red-eye flight, alone.
Should I leave an apology
after the tone?
Red lipstick stains on coffee cups;
What else did I do wrong?
Did we go too far?
All I have left
are a few good pics,
of us, on my phone —
All I want is to fall
apart in your arms,
but you rode away
in your red Jaguar.
& I never saw
the thin red line,
that breakup line,
until it was too late.
__________________________________
Carrie Magness Radna is an audiovisual cataloger at New York Public Library, a choral singer and a poet who loves traveling. Her poems have previously appeared in The Oracular Tree, Mediterranean Poetry, Muddy River Poetry Review, Poetry Super Highway, Walt’s Corner, Polarity eMagazine, The Poetic Bond and First Literary Review-East. Her latest poetry collection, In the blue hour (Nirala Publications), was released in February 2021. Hurricanes never apologize (Luchador Press) was published in December 2019. Born in Norman, Oklahoma, Carrie lives with her husband in Manhattan.
No comments:
Post a Comment