crumbled really, falling out of
my mouth like half chewed
bits of almond which
seems ironic seeing as I’m
eating more nuts to be healthy.
In my dream I looked down at
them in my palm, decayed
fractures of myself but I don’t remember
feeling concerned . . . I don’t
remember how to feel anything. These days
I’m focused on the battlefield of
my body, a much easier opponent
than sneaky tiger thoughts. When I woke I
ran my tongue over my teeth, they were
still there. Always . . . Strong. Smooth. Straight.
My phone tells me that teeth crumbling in a
dream reflects uncertainty or feelings
of rejection, perhaps the need to say
something, or to reinvent yourself. It also
tells me to eat more almonds.
chess moves
This poem about the fragility of friendship was published in Poetry Pause by the League of Canadian Poets.
