Nitrous Oxide

tw: dentistry, blood

I found a dentist that I can trust recently

someone who understands the anxiety

of his fists in my mouth

he's a reformed musician

who plays bands I like through nice speakers

I sing along to Blake Mills

high on drugs

and waiting to see what happens

but nothing happens

except for waking up

with three small droplets of

blood gone brown on a paper bib

I ask him about his big day

and if he bought himself a cannoli

when I look over my left shoulder

I see four long teeth with deep roots

crimson red on a petri dish

I know they won't be studied

but I take comfort knowing they'll be held

I wave goodbye to them and blow kisses

from the numb meat of my mouth

"mon dieu, adieu, mon dieu, adieu"