Here's an experience that at least the three sisters can share...maybe Daddy too? I'm hoping the rest of you will be able to understand a little better this experience and the rest of us will feel a little remembered pain:)
Toes curled, stomach held taut,
fingers frantically grasping clinical arms –
“Towards me, a little – perfect.”
His finger rests on half numb lips,
like kissing a perfect white balloon.
“Love cuts like a knife”
ironically blaring over the screaming
whirs and hungry vacuum sucking
the water spraying an unfeeling chin.
The smell of rancid infection –
of too much food stuck for years
beneath the silver head of that molar,
now burning – like wet pavement
behind a fast food restaurant.
Mind over matter.
Gradually the pushing and pulling
become undulating waves on a beach.
Rubber gloves become lips – a mysterious
fantasy man leans in, creaking…
Worse than fingernails on the blackboard.
A mighty twang from somewhere near
the cheekbone, like pulling a long hair
from the back of the throat.
For weeks a funky mucous flavors
the mouth, but
try as you may,
the mystery and the molar
are shattered, gone.