Cavity Sonnet
Gums are unfeeling. Dentist, unaware,
asks are you okay? I don’t feel a thing;
this is the closest I’ve been to humans.
In one thousand years, I’ve only faced eyes.
My face, too often masked, betrays nothing
human, even as latex pointers sweep
for holes in my teeth, memento mori
from time busied slow with sugar & smoke.
My mind constructs relations between us,
dentist & I, two living bound for life
with aged teeth. Our lives cross over like
birds flying by chance, intuition, feel,
going round but never to origin.