And even if I make the Tetris bricks into a smile with the shape of your teeth all bright and perfect I still think about the dreams we’ve had where our teeth are falling apart in clumps of hair and silk, where my calloused hands were holding bags of them while I cried and woke and stared up into the ceiling which we both knew would quake apart. Would tire apart. Our games still running, red lights blinking so anyone could sigh past our windows in the rainy night.
