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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