Smile with your teeth!
he says and a scream rips through me.
thick nauseous laughter fills the space between us,
but is it mine or his?
like needle point, I am paying such close attention now,
deciphering the meaning from the tea leaves, a witchy magic,
and I have decided.
I heave like I'm sick and I bare them, my teeth, proudly,
blood dripping down my chin as if from an over ripe fruit but it is not.
instead it is my tongue with its mountain range of sharp bones
shaped into a grimace that
looks a lot like a smile if you look hard enough.
