Got one singing inside the gum.
One pinging like chum.
Pain comes swimming and we dance.
Pain comes swimming and we do not lance.
Instead touch nerve. A pick and an ax and a mirror
so we can see what we dig. Dig piggy dig.
Squeal piggy squeal. I will tweak you
until we feel something close to second thoughts
for the things we did years ago and I will
drink our tears until we are square again
and walk, broad shouldered, through
the lanes that we call home with no backward glance.
What is your damage, son? Do not
worry about it. Damage control is on.
Limitations are off.
I snipped a quarter of enamel off for you.
I would like to place it in your hand.
I heard the pliers give their spring weight
and snap shut on their own.
When is a good time for you?
