My Lady Dentist
she fills me
with a desperate longing;
bending over me,
in her clean white tunic,
the smell of her
sets my teeth
on edge;
she drills
a sense of danger into me;
I can only salivate,
eyes popping,
as her dark hair brushes
over my face.
She stabs my gums,
makes my mouth
bleed kisses
on the National Health.
She pulls
and grinds,
and I can taste her
on my lips.
My Lady Dentist,
are all our dreams so false?
Or is it you,
in this anaesthetic haze,
wrapping your rubber gloves around me,
licking me better,
with my blood
on your tongue?
KEITH ARMSTRONG
the jingling geordie
- keith armstrong
- whitley bay, tyne and wear, United Kingdom
- poet and raconteur