From the Kiss Me Good Luck exhibit, mouths have memories too traces the tender imprint of goodbye — the kind that lingers not in the mind, but in the mouth.
This piece sits in the liminal space between a kiss and an ending. It's about how the body remembers what the heart tries to forget. The way intimacy leaves its mark in silence, in taste, in muscle memory. It's a portrait of someone you don’t speak to anymore… but still feel when you close your eyes.
“Your goodbye still tastes like the last time.”
It wasn’t just what they said — it was how they said it.
And how close your faces still were when they walked away.
A love that ends doesn’t always leave cleanly. This is what remains when it doesn’t.
From the Kiss Me Good Luck exhibit, mouths have memories too traces the tender imprint of goodbye — the kind that lingers not in the mind, but in the mouth.
This piece sits in the liminal space between a kiss and an ending. It's about how the body remembers what the heart tries to forget. The way intimacy leaves its mark in silence, in taste, in muscle memory. It's a portrait of someone you don’t speak to anymore… but still feel when you close your eyes.
“Your goodbye still tastes like the last time.”
It wasn’t just what they said — it was how they said it.
And how close your faces still were when they walked away.
A love that ends doesn’t always leave cleanly. This is what remains when it doesn’t.
