“Crooked Teeth” by Mitch Tomas Cave

mouth
poking holes through a photograph
a cracked smile
torn apart by the growth
of a body
my mouth
closed
does not reveal
what i keep hidden
deep within me
i will smile eventually
but you will not see
the bones in which i
rip apart raw meat with
the bones in my mouth
that i bathe the saliva
of your kiss
like soap to a body
you are not bothered by them
my crooked teeth
you said they are perfect
i disagree
but they are mine
and they live inside
my mouth
greeted by still fragrances
as i swallow the scent
of spring flowers
adapted from the fabric that
covers your body
i open my mouth
toxic wind blows in
east smoke of cigarettes
they stiffen
supposed to be used to the wind
they are
crooked
after all

—–

Mitch Tomas Cave is based on the Sunshine Coast, Australia. In 2016, he was selected to participate in Express Media/Australian Poetry’s inaugural Toolkits program for emerging poets. You can find him at @mitchtomascave.