When I Was a Tooth


When I was a tooth

                          I was perfect. Shone luminously. Gnashed

                          every obstacle before me.


When I was pure enamel,


                                         deeply rooted,


                          I was effortless. Clean,

                          tongue-licked. I was infallible.



From inside,                   I was rotting.


Acid dissolving every nerve as if to say


                                         there is no belonging where you are fixed.



                          No living                       with a darkness.


I was eradicated. Perforated. A hole bore through me meant to withdraw


                          left me hollow. Empty, I became intoxicated.

                          Consumed everything until the world severed from its strings,


fell like a cloth around me.

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