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Teeth

Sparkling, simple, silent. My mothers teeth sit,  straight as an arrow. Glistening, with a perfect smile.
And my dad, has his smile, imperfectly perfect. Dull in comparison, still telling a story. My teeth, metal mouth—never listen to the doctor. Brother still so young, has baby teeth slipping away.


My sister’s teeth, my sisters smile, remain welcoming and calming. A smile of honesty, a smile of kindness, a smile of happiness. Teeth in pain: braced, bracketed, bleached. Her smile now inviting, like a sunny summer day.
Everybody in my family has different teeth—in shape, color, story. Experiences around the world: tasting, talking.  They all tell a story, silently voicing their experiences.




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