Diorama

In my dreams you say that loneliness
has caused your teeth to diminish over time, to become thin and
bent

You pry open your lips with both hands and
I place my head in your mouth to investigate.

Your pink softness like chewing gum.
Your bones, weightless and crumbling.

If someone were to walk in the room at that moment

(Which they do, they always do:
Your mother or my lover or some boy I once knew)

They would think to see a circus, freakish and sad:
A ringmaster with her elderly tiger,

only
I never had any power over you.

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