The bowl was left empty
though I knew you wanted something
that would tease your tongue the
Way you would tease me
when you wanted to see me smile through
a scowl. I could only find limes
So we sucked on them after
licking salt off one another’s
Hands, priming our tongues for
shots of tequila we poured
down our throats in the sweet
Burn of agave and mistreatment.
I wanted so badly to cry
but when I saw your face
Nose crunched, lips tight, eyes
Watering, I forgot why.
Giana is a writer of creative nonfiction, poetry, and short stories in Philadelphia. She is currently working towards a masters at Saint Joseph’s University. Her work has been published in Philadelphia Magazine.