Milk Teeth

When I was young I used to be
Vibrant and energetic, buzzing softly
Upon stepping outside and skipping over shadows
Wide contours in the dust, I heard the thrum of children’s feet behind me
For I was loved
And I spoke with a high voice that wasn’t shushed
By caustic sentences of
My mother; Myself
And I bonded with a heart unearthed
By blindly clawing hands
of skittish prospectors
When our shoulder’s skimmed I liked to see how
our different hues of hair would tangle, statically clinging
Litter mates, mewing to portray a strength
Far greater than possible to muster.