By Gigi Krembs
Looking down into summer,
And all I can remember is how my
skin stitched into yours like a knitted blanket,
Or how we would dance under ripples of orange light
leaving only my shadow.
Or how your checks blossomed with red cherries,
that I longed to eat.
Or how green grass grew out of the hallows of your
back sprouting with new life.
Or how we would brush our teeth together,
And imagine our mouths were at sea, struggling to stay afloat.
Or how you made the world spin and stop like a record player.
Or how you kissed me with thorns between your lips,
like you wanted it to sting.
You mistook my hand for a blade.
You folded me up like a lawn chair,
And hit me like a hiccup.
Now your teeth are made of butted cigarettes.
Now you are just a body that never deserved my shadow.
Soon will come winter. Soon you will freeze.
Author Bio
Gigi Krembs
Gigi Krembs is a junior studying English with a concentration in creative writing at the University of San Diego. Her poetry draws readers into richly textured worlds, weaving themes of memory, heritage, and sensory depth. In “Whispers of the Taj,” she explores intergenerational bonds and the delicate interplay of memory, while “Salt on Salt” delves into the complex, layered nature of human connection. Her work reflects a curiosity about identity and emotion, blending vivid imagery with introspective reflection. Gigi dedicates her work to exploring the artistry of language and the nuances of human experience, using her unique voice to bridge personal experience with universal emotions.