A fleecy blanket, a furred protection
those balconies of bacteria became
-- my right by my
transferred to my wild teeth, becoming tame
not through hygiene, but its opposite:
beloved neglect. (Like
an unmade bed,
all soft ridges and warrens, or an unknit
sweater in plush unraveling.) "I
I would! Right
now!" I yelled
from the bathroom sink,
but I could not enter my mouth with the brush
and the false freshness of the paste's tubed stink.
It was homey as leaves beneath a bush
you could crawl under and play house in;
it was my mouthhouse, my inn, and my in.
MOLLY PEACOCK's most recent book is How To Read A Poem & Start A
Poetry Circle. She is the author of four books of poems, including
Original Love, as well as a memoir, Paradise Piece By Piece.
Contributing Writer for House & Garden, she is also co-editor of
Poetry in Motion: 100 Poems from the Subways and Buses. She is Poet-in-Residence at the Cathedral of St. John the
Divine and serves as Co-President of the Poetry Society of America.