‘milk tooth’ — a poem

so,

seven-year-olds used to smile their

gummy smiles at each

other’s faces

shining their gaps a

piano, 

and the tongue grazes the gum

just behind the upper lip

where it meets 

sharp, 

then smooth, 

and slick, and

slide, 

a wet fish

those glossy gums, missing pieces,

with every drop, 

the fairy steals 

those rootless, ivory drops, 

with every drop,

the more adult.

but i kept a couple, 

for not all the milk teeth want to

let go. 

whispering dreams with lisps

the sounds, words, carry in them the music of

a peculiar loss

perhaps, a letting go 

of what once stood

proud and tall, 

the crown of a mountain erupts. 

bye-bye what once was. 

you clench,

they grind

cavities and caves 

hold their place

hello what is now

now the teeth, previously thin and frail,

are jagged, full,

are coffee stained,

stained with tea,

time,

night stained,

lemon and charcoal 

and lipstick,

sometimes, 

and then, there’s the teeth bumping

in the first kiss, 

then laughs, 

then speaking with caution, 

then smoked,

tobacco, 

tar,

and then, there’s the teeth bleeding,

tastes of magnets, 

and the dog bites the arm,

sometimes,

the urge to bite a rock.