The burn on the roof of my mouth is rotten
and rotting. Sitting back hoping for nature’s healing touch
seems far too passive – always too passive.
I’m going to throw the bulk of my skull away
and disposing of all above the molars
sliding blades of salvation back
beyond the roll of my tongue,
sucking away at the steel
like a mango.
My fat face will slice away easily enough –
but the hard work will come
in the gristle
and the brainstem
and the bone
but with steady hand, I’ll make it through
with my bottom jaw and tongue still intact,
I’ll become the ambitious lover
my wife has always wanted,
bringing pleasure to her
like never before
the bridge of my nose
and my unsure eyes
and crooked top teeth
no longer halting me
Free from its bondage, my tongue unfurling
into my wife, like an egg-sucking serpent.
Writhing upwards, towards the soft core
licking her bladder bag
lapping her blood
Dan McLeod works as a copywriter and barista in Melbourne, Australia. His short story Plunging Silver was published in the 2017 Newcastle Short Story Anthology. He has contributed articles and reviews for several Australian music websites, and cites Pedro Juan Gutierrez, John Fante and Karl Hyde as influences.