Wisdom Tooth

Goodbye dentine number 32.

You have been plucked out of my mouth

too easily it seems

and now a fleshy crevice probes the tongue.

You burrowed up through wanting flesh

and blossomed in the darkness,

sentenced to an early grave

and I the one who cast the stone.

My black water lilly,

there is nothing left of me that belongs to you.

If anything at all

you are irrefutable proof

that although wisdom grows

in the most unreasonable of places,

it is not always put to good use.