by a contributor
Her false teeth slipped
into the dry sink – a violent
clank of porcelain upon its polished self.
The front tooth chipped into a gap-
toothed grin as a cracked piece
dove down the copper drain.
She decided that it looked organic–
like a storm-splintered branch
or a beheaded Black-Eyed Susan.
Lips stained with a violet shade
and feverish cheeks flushed with a pinch,
she walked to the drug store to sit
at the soda fountain, sliding a pinstriped
straw into the fresh, vacant space.
JJ Lynne is a recent graduate of Merrimack College where she earned her BA in English. Her poems have won first and second prizes in the annual Rev. John R. Aherne Poetry Contest and her poetry and photography have recently appeared in The Scrambler, Common Ground Review, and [PANK] under her birth name.