Jaws of Life
by Gabrielle DiCanio
May 31, 2026 | Poetry | Startled, Jaw dropping
I’ve never owned a gun,
But I carry one in case I ever get to
see her mouth and remember
Everything It did.
Can teeth still recall the
sensation of flesh
Between them,
Will it take long for the
jaws of life
To forget the taste of
skin?
Can lips move the same way it did
When promising to love forever
And dribble with hatred
At the word bitch?
Because my hatred
Can burn holes into throats
that will never heal.
Gabrielle DiCanio is a student at the University of Central Florida studying creative writing with a certificate in editing and publishing. She is currently an intern for The Florida Review, an assistant editor for The Cypress Dome, and a writer for Her Campus. This is her first publication.