Rendering of the globe on top of a tooth.

Life's No Less Than 32

Tuesday, January 9, 2024

Lately I've been
relating life to dentistry
and I don't find much difference
between the two.
Walking in a clinic
is like being born,
entering an entire new world altogether.
The dental light
is like that of the sun,
guiding me through life's shadiness.
The spittoon bowl
a place to spit my toxicity
superficially, if not otherwise.
The gloves, headcap, mouthmask
are like people
who try to protect me
from the infections life has to offer.
Dental caries
are like people
who're sweet to me
and yet cause me
pain and harm.
And I've met people
like my own family
and closer than close friends
who act like
articulating papers:
keeping my high points in check
(at a time when my ego is as high as the sky)
Sometimes extracting teeth
& extracting people
mean giving myself
the required space
for my own growth.
Some people
like plaque
I realise are adherent
yet not good
and are detrimental to me.
And all of us,
at last,
find a few
like implants
maybe thirty two
like dentures
who'd stay
even when we're old and shabby.

And that's all that will ever matter,
you'd be lucky to find those
and luckier
when you realise
that everyone's born without them
but only a few take some along.