Portant

teeth roll out of his mouth
once the adult ones are finished
gnawing at the roots
"did you know that," i say,
"teeth eat teeth"
the older ones decide
when it's time to cull and
be permanent

the loose ones
are found
in oatmeal
white on white bare mattress
in a mess of legos on the floor
and most recently
split perfectly
                                     in
                                         half

two matching halves
tiny angel wings
a bloody vein through each of them
side by side on the melamine table

what is next
what will fly from here

"please tell me," he writes
"are you bad
circle one
yes or no"

the child puts questions
under his pillow
waiting for answers
to arrive overnight

at dawn
he finds relief
gathering
crumpled responses
under the covers
teeth exchanged for hope
until the next loss