You're not as dead As you're pretending to be Angel hair thin Slivers of enamel Insides of the cat Sticking to the gravel Let's embrace As the organs unravel You're porcelain grin Off-centre of chin Not a smile but a fault line I can't feel a single fucking thing Eat these fucking teeth Pluck them one by one I want to see you swallow Every last fucking one Eat these fucking teeth Suck the pulp, chew the dentin They don't deserve the time They have spent in me Are we going to do this? What tools do you need? Just a towel And a whole lot of heaving I staggered out With crimson mouth 32 trenches Of near perfection