Monday, 17 October 2016

Baby Teeth

I pray not to be kept
only for sentiment
like milk teeth in a vitamin jar;
distastefully disregarded - but not discarded
high up on a dust sheeted shelf.

I'd have no room for growth
already extracted
and discoloured with age;
an empty keepsake - a cluttered headache
that no nostalgic pill could remedy.

And I pray don't liken my love
to the taste of Calpol,
    sickly saccharine and sweet;
nor that friendly smile - gone for a while
replaced by a bitter tasting scowl.

Instead you should hold on
to what's relevant now
and the teeth that serve you best;
to chew and grind - but never merely to remind
as some torn and toothless trophy.

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