I ask my Shadow

Cursed to dream of cutting teeth, 

god knows I hate the dentist and

God knows I dream 

of reaching into the trap 

and the trap 

Snapping shut. 

And a crunch of tooth and bone 

and a taste of incisor and metal-riddled molar —

Ah! The silver lining —

Is the mouth the last sacred place or the 

first we defile? 

Chewing on this and tripping towards the next

Rock Bottom,

I ask my shadow, 

do I even know where I am going? 

Anyplace is better than here. 

Then let’s continue. 

About the Author

Marilyn Sieger is a writer from Arcadia University.