The Dentest
He never smiled, not with lips
just eyes that blinked like broken bits
of mirror left in alley dust
a man you’d pass, but never trust.
No plaque outside, no waiting chair
just creaking stairs and colder air
a bell that rang with no reply
a shadow shifting near the sky.
He worked alone, he took no fees
no drills, no lights, no niceties
and if you dared to knock that door
you left with fewer teeth than before.
His fingers smelled of copper rot
he’d hum and mutter, pick and plot
a child’s loose tooth, a widow’s crown
he’d mark the date and write it down.
They said he carved each root and fang
with names and dreams and where they sang
he’d polish pain, he’d count your lies
then slip your molars in a vice.
His walls were lined with jars and grins
from wedding days and childhood sins
from those who thought it safe to sleep
from those who thought they had secrets to keep.
No grave was deep enough to stall
his need to catalogue them all
a thief of bone, a prince of pulp
his breath a sour, silent gulp.
If you have felt a sudden chill
a tug at night that won’t sit still
look in the mirror, count once more
was that gap there the night before?
About the Creator
♿ V+ Marie381Uk
Poetry has lived in me since childhood.
Ink spills the feelings words fear to say.
My poems heal, some haunt, all are pieces of me.
Stay and read please. Like&follow me. If my poetry touches your ♥️ maybe leave a small tip
#Marie381UkWrites
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