They rip baby teeth from my searing gums
and though my mouth is a warm glass of blood
on a cool Autumn day,
I’m promised jagged rows of ivory
mountaintops
that will give my smile new menace.
The copper floodwaters recede
like the tide
but further back each time
until they become emptied pools, caverns into which strangers
explore and poke and croon over
until stalactitic crystals form
in the gaps.
I will protest:
these painful phonies yield the same reaction
as my original gems!
No fear, but sparked counter attacks from my enemies
who flash their own weapons in response.
Sew the faux pearls those tricky fairies traded for coins back into their holes!
This is not the range I was promised!

These mountains are volcanoes
dripping lava down my chin,
and I do not want to keep spitting acid
at others
to alleviate my own pain.
Take them out,
take them back,
take them out,
take them back,
take them–