You Taste Like A Mouth Full Of Maybe

Franca Gimenez
Franca Gimenez

Mouths Full Of Maybe

I still haven’t mastered kissing with my mouth
i’m far too busy doing it with my heart
my friend thinks it’s bizarre
that i am stingy with my tongue and do not often meet faces
i’d like against mine
i tell her

i would love to kiss them all
i would love to invite strangers inside
i wish i could fuck and leave and run and not care

but my body is already hollowed so i don’t need more empty
leaves me seeing patterns in ceilings that look like
dancing electrocardiograph lines in my father’s hospital room
i kiss each time like a first time with potential
and hope
and maybes
so i don’t kiss many people

because i don’t want to taste nothingness

i want to taste possibility.

Franca Gimenez
Franca Gimenez

Coltrane

We fucked like jazz,
inconsistent
but never enough.
I would start the record player over again,
Scratch,
Skip a track,
Back to the start.
Drunk on the saxophone
Staccato,
Detached.
They could hear us from down the block.

Franca Gimenez
Franca Gimenez

For Now

nothing about us was meant to last
we were illegal firecrackers
and $5 sunglasses
purchased at tiny corner stores
impermanence stuck like pieces of corn in our teeth
we were always going to fall out
we were always going to break apart
I just wish we had done it quietly
without waking the neighbors
without alerting the world
without shouting from rooftops
our expiration is here. TC mark

Ari Eastman

✨ real(ly not) chill. poet. writer. mental health activist. mama shark. ✨

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