At fifteen, my lost wisdom
teeth tumbled into plastic
bags thinner than the latex
gloves I could still taste.
Rushes of hot, thick blood
filled my mouth. I held gauze
in my jaw until it dripped.
I tongued the gaps where parts of me
once lay trapped under stubborn skin.
My stitched gums and fat face would heal
with brine and ice, but drugs
I needed to keep from feeling
once I really woke up. I was sore
for weeks despite the pills. Pain
made me almost miss what I had been
so eager to take away.
Kira Tucker (she/they) is an artist from Memphis, Tennessee and an MFA+MA candidate in poetry at Northwestern University. Kira's work appears in Tupelo Quarterly, The Spectacle, and elsewhere. Having received fellowships from the Mellon Foundation, Tin House, and the Hurston/Wright Foundation, Kira is currently at work on their latest creative project all about dreams and dreaming—a poetic investigation of the American Dream and the landscapes of our collective unconscious.