pearly

prongs of enamel,

stone fruit nestled in your

tender gingiva,

cleaving their way

into place.

swollen, slimy,

the strongest bones

forcing the weakest

flesh into deeper submission,

all for what?

a smile?

an easier chew?

a deeper bite?

your tear-stained face,

gnawing on finger tips

and frozen fruit teethers

praying prayers in baby babble

swallowing numbing salve

for any sign of reprieve,

of solace.

cherry red gums,

a deep ember,

a baby’s desperation, a mother’s pity:

a reminder that in this life,

even growing teeth is devastating.