I have a sore in the back of my mouth
Like a leech eating under my molar it’s always raw
My tongue searches it out
And I’m reminded of those blind eels
Feeling my way in the darkness
Detecting only by pain
And a feathered texture
As if someone took a cheese grater to my gums
“If this is your way of getting me to notice you--
It’s working”
I think to the leech, as my eel tongue tries again to feast