I used to be afraid of my saliva
the soapy buds on my tongue and gums,
afraid that at night, they would drown me:
and I would spiral into the clutches of
my throat, fleshy & claustrophobic.

Now, I dream of such tight places
and how water may wash me to a place
where I will be contained for just seconds
too long. Asleep, the doctors look like
comets bursting above my eyelids.

Drool, the culprit dripping down
my chin gives them the satisfaction of a
final goodbye, if not to cleanse my
life just before she ends.