THREE POEMS by EMMALINE KELLY
Mock Turtle Soup
of all her flavors and scents
I really like the taste of
cigarette on her breath, with
stale spit she licks her
lips and ducks her eyes away
we’re both such deeply uncool
lovers and carry each other
away to somewhere we
can station together
and releasing control had been
my humble intent so with
her, I did and so did she,
and so moving forward,
stale spit in other mouths
just tastes dirty
it’s imitation
crab or mock turtle soup
In Color
yuck! and why’d you
grab me like that
my diaphragm’s rotten
and my lungs are sour
and you never scratched
my back after i scratched yours
ouch hiss ow it’s tricky to breathe
‘cause if my diaphragm’s a color it’s
bruise green and my lungs are
full of blue
I loved how long your back was
I could drag my fingers there for hours
my friend I call is taking care
of herself tonight and so I’m
talking to myself in my mirror
refusing to parrot the empowering
one-liners every loved-one
insists I understand
I’m sure I deserve
better and you suffer
the same suffer I do
I get to care about you
you don’t just get to
tell me not to
thank you for turning on
the light of the room you’re
staying in it’s a mess and
I don’t like it in here
I can be your body all on my own
I’m leaving here’s my key
Curio
you know the smells you save when they’re the last you’ll ever smell them? like my mom
has this curio case that was my great grandmother Ethel’s but we called her Gigi which
is just short for great grandmother and her house had such a distinct smell obviously
but now that my uncle lives in it it doesn’t smell like that anymore and no one gets to
smell Gigi's smell ever again but my mom is saving a pocket of it in this compartment
of the curio cabinet and anytime she opens it to get something she says oops can’t let
granny’s smell out and people do this with clothes of beloveds they’ve lost like I did with the
shirt of this girl I didn’t even know I loved before I knew I was gay or anything and when I
stayed with her when I was fifteen she gave me one of her shirts and it smelled so
much like her and I guess I loved her so “straight” me put it in a gallon ziploc and kept
it in a drawer at my dads house and now I have this thing because I’m a little
bored and I’m not really involved with anyone right now i really do have
enough going on in every other sliver of my life but I live to date and desiring is all I
really aspire to so I’m really floundering here blessed with wonderful passed lovers
their memories have kept me warm at night until now because I’ve smelled their
shirts too much ugh see how I exploited my Gigi and that touching relatable story just to try
and talk about being horny in an original way sorry I rolled over to cuddle
my pillow and felt so dissatisfied because I’ve remembered it as you or you so much
it’s lost all meaning oh no! my mom opened the curio compartment so many times
the smell’s escaped luckily I’ve scrounged a lukewarm memory of one person I forgot I
missed from awhile ago I can’t believe that I ziplocked that girl's shirt away and didn’t
realize I was into women for like two more years I ended up missing her so much anyway
I opened the bag to wear the shirt and it got washed but I’m sure the ziploc
still smells like her in some landfill somewhere
Emmaline Kelly (she/her) is a New Orleanean first, a dyke second, and a hedonist all the time. She enjoys hanging out, high ceilings, and dilemmas and is surviving the winter on Louisiana citrus. Emmaline has been featured in print and digital editions of Adult Groceries.