our teeth barked all night. spoke to us
of future fires & a need to tie our shoelaces
to god. mouths closed, we huddled in the closet
hoping to not be discovered. the stars were all teeth
& so were the lamplights. glowing enamel.
sleeping on the tongue, i dissolved & was
born again as a toad. toothless, i was briefly
liberated from all thoughts of destruction.
once, we had a t-rex tooth displayed in the living room.
it would growl whenever anyone ate meat. we promised
we would share but the tooth was greedy.
the first time i kissed a boy our teeth clacked
like tap shoes. then, he bit my lip & i became
the trout who wants the hook. often, i would
dangle myself from the ceiling by the cheek
or the tongue. even caught myself
generating gills whenever i showered.
the boy then became nothing more than a diagram
& i likewise became an example. leaned into
every reflective surface to check my teeth.
used to crave sharper canines. crawled on all fours
in the hopes it would unhoax my feral. nothing.
nothing at all. rounded gumdrop teeth.
spitting the sugar out. spitting the sea weed out.
told the teeth to hush. nothing was on fire.
not quit yet. in a decade or so maybe
but by then we could be so gone. could be
in another planet or solar system. the sun
could have gone home, leaving us
in the last beautiful dark. it is always worth
agonizing over the future. by doing so
we keep it shiny & alive. my teeth knew exactly
what they were doing. barking, yelling, pushing
the inevitable farther away. tonight in my world
there are no fires only a glass door knob
& rows of teeth: patient & eager.