There is a slow moan, a rumble from above
and then the sheets of snow fall past my window.
In dreams, all this white would be the remnants
of teeth, ground into powder, as light as the holes
they leave behind upon extraction. To fill a mouth
with pink, nothing sharp, to eat only ice. Wait
for it to melt. This is how to learn patience. I smile
at the world with a gaping hole so black that all
the birds are swallowed. The sun is shadowed.