Texts From Last Night
Gabriella Gonzales

Wishing I were bigger than these moments,
smothered in hands, passing through my old bodies,
shedding a luscious fur that drips from my shoulders
like a whore in a girlie magazine, wishing I were greater
than desire, so over its poesy whatever, wishing you hadn’t left
me in June, wishing you were here, kissing me goodbye in the porch light.
It’s a sweet montage, we’re laughing ugly and smiling at each other,
the night expanding like a lung. So we drive with all the windows down,
grinning into the blue, legs crossed, not both of them mine,
the car sliding down the road like a streaming blotch
on a reel of film. Lying on Sol’s couch, soft and molted,
palming my phone, your phantom weight on my stomach,
trying to send this, hoping at the very least to startle you into love,
not love with me, but love as a verb,
hoping you’ll see the bullshit in that sentence,
regretting this already.


Volume Three, Winter Tangerine Review

Gabriella Gonzales' work has appeared in Poetry in Performance, Best Teen Writing of 2013, and others. She is a Presidential Scholar in the Arts nominee, a YoungArts Writing Finalist, a National Student Poet Program Semi-Finalist, and a Scholastic Art and Writing Awards Gold and Silver Medalist, as well as an American Voices Nominee. Her poems are currently on display in the U.S. Department of Education. She lives in New York City.