Escaping Hurricane Irma, I Think of My Bad Lover

by Elina Katrin

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obedient    frisking a heart that has shrunk into an obscure clementine    caressing one’s lips as if
gold shavings of something bigger    than human    a substance so unpredictable nails turn into
smog     into plasma with touch    cold    a hurricane is approaching    kids get on the bus    flee   
leave behind    the caviar of emotional disturbia    buried in the back yard of their scalps    it takes six
hours to get out of Florida and then some more    to escape the mind that stretches like nougat   
sticks to teeth and spaces between toes    and everything is okay on the bus with no windows   
everything is okay except for the chill of a ghost    a kindred spirit    embraced and accepted   
reminding    that fingering with a thumb is not fun    but an attempt was made    so consider it
mission accomplished    if stones could fly     they would still sink    to the bottom of the lake    after
being thrown    across    the threshold

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Born to a Syrian father and a Russian mother, Elina Katrin is now bicoastal, residing in-between Southern California and Northern Virginia. A baking enthusiast, she holds an MFA in Creative Writing from Hollins University. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in The Fourth River, BreakBread Magazine, New World Writing Quarterly, and elsewhere. Elina's debut chapbook of poetry is forthcoming from Newfound in 2023.