by Carabella Sands
Replace the rag in my mouth with syrup from the tree you water with gold. The one you won’t share fruit from. The one you water with gold. I cut out my own teeth to taste it. To taste syrup and grow new teeth. To turn my mouth metal. My face metal. I want to be one of the sap statues crying in your garden. Kiss me then. Tell me I’m the most beautiful statue you have ever seen.