Blue
By Meghan Miraglia
Blue
I’m in my Blue period – it’s Joni all the time.
She’s sitting in a park in Paris, France.
I’m sitting on the edge of your bed.
The premise is the same: the news sure looks bad.
When the courts overturned Roe,
you were holding another woman, a woman
who you loved once and then didn’t.
She cried in your arms. You told me how
you touched her hair until she was calm again.
Like a horse left in the rain, I thought.
I picture your hand over mine
in the white waiting room.
The television hums through the wall.
The politicians talk laws, bodies.
I tell you to close the door. Your shadow,
a blue knife in the sliver of remaining light.
We are so far from each other.
I am reaching through me
to find you. Each time, I come back empty.
MEGHAN MIRAGLIA has an orange cat with no tail. And, yes. She is still in her Blue period.
Art by India Francis
What a haunting piece. The way you braid the personal and the political—Joni's Paris park, the overturned Roe, the other woman's hair—creates this quiet devastation that feels both intimate and enormous. "Like a horse left in the rain" is a line I won't forget soon. And that final image of reaching through yourself only to come back empty... that's the whole poem in a breath. Blue, indeed. 💙