Mouths
Clean straight teeth in a clean straight mouth. Every inch carefully flossed, brushed, rinsed. Every inch beaten into straight, glittering perfection. The smile twinkles. The mouth consumes a balanced diet that pretends unhealthy food doesn’t exist. If it doesn’t exist, it can't be eaten. If it can't be eaten, it can't ruin the body. If the body isn't ruined, others understand you respect yourself and, therefore, respect you. A careful tongue proclaims dreams and hopes and aspirations. The tongue beats the teeth, and the rhythm entrances all who cross its path. This mouth has a future.
Slightly yellowed teeth with a few brown spots. The coffee pours in and flows, flows, flows without rest. The teeth are brushed quickly, when time can be found. Time is rarely found. The mouth inhales fast food; literally whatever can be found quickly and bought quickly and eaten quickly. Coffee always follows. And precedes. And comes in between. The teeth chatter. Click click click. The tongue mutters apologies and screams frustrations. This mouth is squeezing out the last few drops of time.
Fake teeth sit in rows that follow the curve of wizened gums. Sagging skin surrounds a sagging mouth. The tongue sags too. The mouth indulges itself. It doesn’t have long left. Sweets, cake, ice cream. The mouth seeks new foods, wanting to taste life one last time before the end. Wanting to taste the world. The tongue announces its final requests. This mouth is desperate.
A dry tongue sucks at gapped teeth. Some are missing, beaten out or beaten in. The mouth waters at the smell of food held in passing hands. Tantalizing, titillating, taunting. Yet out of reach, always out of reach. The dry tongue sucks at air. It sucks at fingers. It sucks at dreams of nourishment, at an end to the hunger. The gums bleed and the tongue sucks them too. Water is scarce. The teeth are unbrushed and have remained that way for years. The tongue whispers pleas for help that deflect off uncaring ears. This mouth is ravenous.
The tooth wobbles as it is pushed by an eager tongue. Soon it will exit the mouth and wait to be collected by a fairy of teeth. Another tooth will take its place. The mouth yearns for sweets but, inevitably, receives vegetables to its disappointment. It is content a second later when distracted by something, as it undoubtedly will be. There is so much to see, to taste, to feel. The teeth are brushed under duress. They are often bumped and hit during the day but remain firmly stuck in the gums, loyal to the mouth until their final exodus. The tongue quests for answers. This mouth is unafraid.
450 words - May 2017