milk teeth & bad omens
a poem by Kia Ayesha Sinan
entry one: the first loss i lost my first tooth in the middle of a thunderstorm. small, soft thing— barely a memory— tucked under my pillow like a secret i did not understand. the ceiling was leaking in three places. the wallpaper sagged, peeling back like tired skin. i tried to keep my mouth closed, so nothing else would fall out. entry two: untitled after that, loss after loss after loss. hoodies. summers. coins. names. i learned to let go before anyone could steal. entry three: untitled sometimes i woke with blood crusted at the edge of my mouth. sometimes i buried what fell out— in flowerpots, in old coat pockets, between the cracks of the floorboards. small, white seeds. nothing ever grew. entry four: untitled the bad omens move in slowly, they know better than to hurry. i forgave them once and loved them, even. (it is easier to love what you expect to leave you.) entry five: the last loss i still dream of my teeth. spilling from my mouth in handfuls, falling down my throat when i try to speak. i wake reaching for them and i wake empty.
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Kia Ayesha Sinan (she/her) is the proud author of two poetry anthologies and the contemporary novel Ambition. Her writing is a careful consideration of the human condition and the many ways in which it may manifest. A lover of ritual, she is a self-described media consumer and creator, a duality which is an effective summary of her daily practices. Generally, you can summon her with a mention of classic literature. If this turns out unfavorably, you can find her at @dvcadqnce on Instagram.