Tooth Fairy

Jan 27 2012

The tongue pokes, probes

won’t let go
of the spot.

Hones in

on the empty socket,

where the rotten tooth

dislodged.

You worry away at this.

The least distraction

and your tongue is back,

poking and prodding

straining to bottom-out.

The strangely electric touch.

The metallic taste of blood.

The absence, where something was.

You irresistibly tongue

the naked gum,

delightfully firm, yet compliant.

It thrums with relief,

on the cusp of grief
and pleasure.

And  like punch-drunk love

your gap-toothed smile

beams guileless, into the world.

The child inside

sheepishly peeking out.