Teeth, one - April 20th

Teeth

Your imperfect
teeth in your mouth like a guitar
over a bent knee. Yeah yeah
I know the music of your clicking. Okay okay
I know the way they strum when you run
your teeth across them. I get it, I get it
they're so perfect, you're always
reminding me with smiles. Goddamn
straight teeth have no grooves like yours.
Where the hell is the music
when your mouth is miles
away and I'm left
with smooth enamel?

I have one tooth, slightly
askew, on my bottom
teeth. My tongue avoids it,
the note now feels unharmonious
with your teeth's harp.
I remember when I was the pick
and you gnashed me
between your teeth.
I want your music to cut
my gums again. Infect my mouth
with your cold teeth chattering

tune. Listen, listen
I'm only asking to hear them again,
I don't need to be the lead
in your orchestra, I'll sit second
fiddle to anyone just to have
a closer seat to your performance.