Dent de Lait
When I was twelve,
I opened a drawer I wasn’t meant to.
In a box inside a box inside,
I found my childhood
filed in bone.
Twenty milk-white moons,
roots still dark with me:
no note or coin,
just the sound of my own jaw
closing.
12 thoughts on "Dent de Lait"
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Fantastic! I love ‘roots still dark with me’. The last stanza lands so deftly.
thank you. this poem is the epigraph to my imaginary monograph, *Bodies of Evidence: Ritual Disposal of Primary Teeth in Human History* 🦷
This is wonderful and speaks to the discovery of truths in childhood. (AND then you knew where the Tooth Fairy put the teeth. LoL) I love how you SHOW, e.g. you never use the word “teeth,” but we know exactly what you have discovered.
I’d love to read the collection when it is complete. It soudns fascinating! Thank you for sharing this poem.
that is so kind — thank you
oh this is awesome. man talk about a sucker punch of a last stanza. short and sweet. this poem is perfect. curiosity killed the cat!
thank you 🐈⬛
Wow! especially love and am intrigued “Twenty milk-white moons,
roots still dark with me:”
thank you
Wonderful concise poem. That last stanza is a killer, and I love “Twenty milk-white moons…” as well!
thank you 🌕
Pretty much perfection. Maybe my favorite of yours this month, which is saying a lot.
thank you 🙏